Requiem Angelō Damnatae
by Water-smurf
Summary: Oneiroi Series, Deirdre ending. They loved a memory they didn't know had faded away a long time ago. There was nothing left but to get caught in her web, and the more and more she unravels, the more determined Xykon is to keep control of her.
1. Beginning of the End

A/N: Of course, these stories are far from the pinnacle of the darkness in my mind, they are definitely some of the darkest work I've written to date. This story will be long, twisted, and smash our taboos to pieces. This will probably disgust, offend, and disturb. This does not contain the light tone of the webcomic. It seems to follow a certain SoD path, so that is what you should expect. The ending is up to debate as I am open to changing it as the characters move and develop on their own, but I don't suggest counting on a happy ending. The Deirdre path of the Oneiroi Series is not a happy one and will not lend itself easily to a happy ending.

You have been warned.

Disclaimer: The OotS belongs to Rich Burlew. I'm not sure if Deirdre/Tiasal belongs to me completely or only partially, but I'm pretty sure that Rich wouldn't want her anyway, so I guess she's mine.

* * *

Part I

Milēs Fortēs Cadunt

* * *

The taste of blood was still fresh in her mouth when she shakily sat on her bed, wincing at the soreness in her thighs. Xykon stood in front of her with his arms crossed, skeletal grin frozen on his face.

"Did you really need to bite his throat open? The cleaning bill on the linens will be huge."

Deirdre dizzily shook her head, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. "How many prisoners do we have?"

"I dunno. Ask the Necromancer chick. She's in charge of that stuff." Xykon sat beside her, running one hand through her soft, luxurious hair. Everything about the gesture was possessive, as if he was proclaiming that she was his and only his. She had sealed the deal with the murder of her father.

She leaned a little into the touch.

"You're going to need to figure out what to do with that family of yours. They're going to get annoying if all they do is sit around the dungeon."

His hand drifted to the base of the back of her neck, playing cold finger bones over the moist green skin. A tremble ran down her spine when he touched a new bruise-like mark at her pulse point, and he chuckled lowly.

"Family? I killed them."

"Oh really?" The bare teeth were less than an inch from her ear, air rushing out and making another shudder ripple through her body. "I guess that we just have some _other_ uptight elves, half-breed, and human thrown in the cells down there. My mistake."

Deirdre frowned, trying to muddle through her significantly clouded thoughts, trying to reconcile the implications of Xykon's words with the clear memory of killing and binding her brothers and cousins, but she let the confusion float away when a cold finger bone touched her chin, tilting her head up so Xykon could see her face.

His expression was the same, but it felt like the grin was predatory.

"You're not a virgin anymore. Reddy made sure of that."

She blinked in affirmation.

He chuckled, looking her up and down. "Tomorrow, find the Necromancer Chick and see how many continents we've crushed and how many more that need crushing. And ask if there are any rebellions yet—those are always fun."

His phalange ran down her side and rested on her thigh. "Get some sleep tonight and remember to put the prisoners to work tomorrow."

And Xykon was gone.

* * *

Everyone perked at the quiet tapping of bare feet on stone the next morning, their near silent conversation quieting. A familiar green woman stepped down the stairs, running her hand lightly against the stone wall and stepping into the empty hall in front of their barred cells.

Deirdre didn't pay mind to the servant children feverishly scrubbing every inch of the dungeon clean. They never acknowledged anything but their work, so she didn't bother them.

She looked up at her childhood playmates, a smile playing across her face. Lydia was hunched over a pile of peculiarly stacked rocks, probably playing a game with herself. She had always loved games, especially logic-based ones or puzzles. Deirdre wondered briefly what Lydia's younger brother and sister were up to.

Abram was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his arms resting on his knees and his mouth moving slightly, as if he were speaking but there weren't words coming out. Terentius seemed to freeze in place, previously pacing his cell, and his eyes fixed squarely on the woman.

Octavius stood up robotically, walking to the bars and gasping them so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Tiasal."

"Didn't I throw you all down a mountain?"

Lydia's face scrunched up a little and she glanced up studiously from her game, but all the others were too distracted to respond.

"Tiasal, what's going on?" Terentius asked, slowly going to the bars of his cage and holding them just as tightly as his twin. "Tia…"

Deirdre's purple eyes flicked back and forth between the prisoners, her blood glowing under her skin faintly. The power of the Snarl seemed to have been absorbed more completely with her body, but the glow remained as a constant reminder of what she was capable of.

"What do you think I could use you for?"

Terentius jerked a little in surprise, eyes not leaving her. "What?"

"I can't keep you in here forever, can I? Xykon will get bored eventually and start using you as toys, but Tsukiko insists that you are valuable sources of information so we shouldn't kill you." She paused thoughtfully. "Does this all sound vaguely familiar?"

Terentius swallowed hard, but Octavius only snarled, slamming himself against the bars like an animal.

"You conniving bitch! He killed our Other Parent and you still _work_ for him?!"

"You forgot to mention him killing my father, but yes, that sums it up." Deirdre fingered the black sapphires around her neck, tapping the cold stones. One of the servant children picked up his bucket, scampering into one of the empty cells and starting to try to scrub away hundred-year-old brown and red stains. Purple eyes followed him as he did so, and Lydia's face scrunched up a little more.

"Interrogation isn't my job. I'll leave that to Tsukiko." Deirdre casually walked up to Terentius's cell, smiling.

The phantom taste of Redcloak's blood got stronger in her mouth.

"Hi, Big Brother. Long time, no see." She reached through the bars, taking one of Terentius's hands and lightly running her thumb against his knuckle, her soft green hand tiny against his giant chocolate-colored one, just as it used to be. "We should get caught up, shouldn't we? Octy doesn't look like he's calm enough to talk much."

"Keep your paws off him!"

But Terentius didn't throw his sister's hand away. He looked dumbly at her palm, forcing another painful swallow. "B-Baby Sister…"

"We should catch up. I have so many questions and so many things to say."

"_So you're going to rape and kill him?" _

A familiar yet somehow warped goblin with a red cloak leaned against the wall, frowning with his arms crossed. _"I guess it doesn't matter what you do. It doesn't change the fact that he's going to try to trick you the same way I did. What are you going to do to stop him?" _

Deirdre's eyes darted towards the goblin for only a moment before they were back on Terentius, her expression never wavering.

The cell door unlocked and swung open without her touching it, Deirdre quietly stepping inside the cage. Terentius didn't make one move to harm or escape. She knew he wouldn't. He wanted to trick her too much.

"Here, Big Brother."

She grasped both of his wrists, tendrils of magic licking out and forming two simple metal wristbands with glowing runes on them. "These will keep you behaving well."

"…" Terentius sounded like he was trying to speak, but he couldn't.

Octavius just growled, holding the bars between them tightly. "If you hurt him, I swear I'll—"

"You'll what?"

Deirdre looked up, dangerous chips briefly visible in her eyes. "You'll have him hold me while you beat me unconscious again?"

The color drained from his face.

Abram shuddered, his face contorting for a second, before he relaxed and slipped back in a trance.

Terentius's arms slipped around her waist, bringing her in slowly, then squeezing tight.

Deirdre rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck the way Tiasal used to, nuzzling his throat gently. "I missed you, Big Brother."

He let out a choked sob, then tightened his grip around her, burying his face in her neck. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed circles in his back, letting him cry, lovingly shushing and rocking him.

Octavius looked away, as did Lydia, but Abram stayed in his almost-not-murmuring state.

"Come on. I'll get you cleaned up."

She shifted her head a little, his sweaty hair sticking to her face, and kissed his head. The little girl holding Deirdre's leg sobbed softly, reaching out futilely for Terentius.

"_I missed you, Big Brother… I'm so sorry… Kill me… Please."_

Deirdre supported her brother, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder and wiping his grimy tearstained face with her hand and leading him towards the cell door. One of the servant children walked in the cell just as they left, passing through the siblings.

It occurred to Deirdre that they hadn't had servant children since the cleric had died.

No one spoke when she led her brother to the stairs and out of sight.

Terentius didn't say or do anything. He was her doll. Her plaything. If she had thrown him on the bed and pulled his pants down, he probably would just stare. He didn't have the will to resist her.

She brought him to her room, still holding him up, and pulled his shirt off, revealing a body covered in sweat, grime, and cuts, some getting swollen and infected and some healing. She let the shirt drop to the floor.

She undid his belt, letting his pants fall, then she pulled down his underwear. That elicited a slight wince of discomfort, but nothing else.

"Come on, Big Brother."

She stood up and took his arm, leading him like a child to the bathroom and stepping into the shower with him, turning on the nozzle to have a jet of warm water spurt out.

Terentius shivered, looking away, but Deirdre didn't seem bothered. She watched the dirt, sweat, and blood wash away from her brother's body, circling down the drain, before she picked up a bar of soap and started washing him herself. He was shaking, but never once did he say a word.

She paid special attention to his chest, making sure that all the cuts were getting the cleaning they should have had a while ago. Some of the barely scabbed cuts started to bleed again, and she just quietly ran the soap across them.

The suds still washing away, she squeezed some shampoo in her hand and started washing his hair, not even needing to go on the tips of her toes. Terentius shut his eyes tightly, shaking as white bubbles dripped down his neck and was washed down into the pipes.

He still didn't say anything.

Deirdre made sure all the dirt was washed out of her brother's hair before she leaned on him gently, putting her hands on his chest and resting her face against him, just breathing, and the only things separating them were her wet dress and the droplets of water running between their skins.

She turned off the water.

Hair and clothes dripping, Deirdre stepped out of the shower, pulling her brother with her, and grabbed a fluffy white towel, giving it to him. In one of the first independent movements he made, he wrapped it around his waist to cover himself, the tips of his ears red and his eyes averted.

The woman murmured something under her breath and her skin, dress, and hair immediately dried, the only remainder being the puddle at her feet

"I'll get clothes for you."

She turned and left, shaking out her hair, and walked to her wardrobe, opening it up. Her brother wasn't particularly broad—the size difference between elf men and women was small, made even smaller by Deirdre's goblin blood—so anything of hers would fit him.

She pulled out a pair of pajama pants, and after a moment's thought, a matching night shirt, laying it out on the bed. Her late father's room should have more male clothes.

Terentius stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair but keeping his private areas carefully hidden. His chest was still looking red and bloody. A roll of bandages appeared in Deirdre's hand and she walked forward, patiently wrapping it around her brother's torso tight enough to stem the bleeding but not so tight to restrict his breathing. It was only when she was finished did she speak.

"Would you like me to get you underwear? I know where I can—"

"That's fine."

Deirdre's ears perked a little at the sound of her brother's voice. It was deeper than she remembered, the rumble sending little vibrations down her body, and it sounded husky, like a smoker. Interesting.

She turned away while her brother carefully started getting dressed and opened up the drawer in her bedside table, taking out a metal case. She doubted her brother liked nicotine. He never struck her as a tobacco lover. Good thing she didn't like tobacco either.

She took an unmarked homemade cigarette out of the case, pulling a lighter from the drawer and flicking it on. The sound made her brother perk and look to see was she was doing as he buttoned up his shirt.

"You shouldn't be doing that stuff. Put it down. Now."

It was the first assertive statement he'd made since she came to him in the dungeon. Deirdre shrugged, putting the homemade-looking cigarette between her lips and lighting the tip.

"Tiasal—"

"Here."

The musky scent rose to the ceiling and Deirdre took out another cigarette, strolling forward and putting it between his lips. He stiffened a little, his hands freezing over one of his buttons.

"This should relax you a little."

She brought her lighter up, flicking it on. The flame appeared in a flash, making the tip of the cigarette glow and smoke.

She flipped the top over the flame.

Terentius closed his eyes and finished buttoning his shirt, taking in a long drag, and only taking the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment to blow a cloud of musky smoke up at the ceiling.

"How did you know?"

"Your voice tipped me off."

Deirdre sat down on the bed, and her brother slowly did the same.

"You shouldn't be doing this. It's horrible for your lungs. It's alright if I do it, but not you."

"I don't do it often. Only when I need something to unwind." Smoke snaked from the corner of her lips, twirling around in the air and slowly dissipating. "If your voice is anything to go by, you're an addict."

There was silence for a bit.

"I… I had quit for a while." Terentius blew out another cloud. "When we thought you died, well… I didn't think there was a reason to take care of myself anymore."

"But I didn't die." Deirdre watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye, taking another drag. "We have a lot to get caught up on."

"Yeah. We do."

Terentius rubbed the extra moisture from his eyes. Deirdre turned to face him, leaning against the bed's headboard. "How is our family? What happened after I left?"

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, still not quite meeting her eyes. "Well… it was hard. Everyone was devastated. We thought that Tsukiko had killed and soulbound you. The Order started to work harder to find Xykon, even bringing Aarindarius and the old Sapphire Guard in on it, and they sort of left the kids with Celia. Me and Eight stayed with Parent. Abram, Eight, Lydia and I went out adventuring when we were old enough and tried to find Xykon and Deir… you."

He swallowed hard, taking another drag. "What about you?"

"Oh, the usual." She blew out another immaterial snake. "I was kidnapped by Tsukiko and forced to work for the late owner of this tower, a cleric. He had more than a passing interest in his child slaves."

Terentius choked.

"He forced me to become addicted to an opiate so I would only have vague memories of what he did to me and he was able to punish me with withdrawal if I resisted. It was a very unpleasant experience. The smoking is one thing, but believe me when I say that, when needles and opiates get involved, you're way in over your head."

Terentius pulled the cigarette from his lips, shaking and pale.

"Xykon decided to use the threat of my sexual abuse as leverage over Redcloak, who he resurrected a couple months after I was captured. The cleric took a rather flippant view of Xykon's authority and tried to just take what he wanted. Xykon killed him, then he killed all of the other servant children."

His skin was white as the sheets.

"I wish he had done it sooner. The drugs were horrible to get off of." Deirdre blew out another snake and held out her arm, scars from needle marks still visible on the green skin. "I thought I would die."

Terentius gulped, carefully brushing the tips of his fingers on the inside of her elbow, counting the scars silently. Deirdre shrugged, allowing him to continue. "Xykon taught me magic. Redcloak is dead now. We're rulers of the world." She leaned forward, touching his face and caressing it lightly. "I would ask if you were proud of me, but I know you're not."

He was silent.

That was all the affirmation she needed.

She kissed his cheek. "Would you like a drink?"

"N-No thanks."

"I insist. You're tense."

She stood up, walking to the cabinets built into her armoire, and took out two glasses. "I hope you like human-made sherry. My spirits are so strong that they would knock us both out, and I finished my wine with my father last night."

Terentius shifted nervously, frowning at her. "I thought you said that your father was dead."

"Oh, he is. He was disposed of last night." She glanced up from her cabinet. "Fino or oloroso? I'm afraid I don't have anything more moderate."

Terentius was pale again. "You, uh, don't seem too broken up about it. He was your father."

"And that makes me have to care about his death?"

She looked up at him, their gazes meeting, and he saw something disturbingly shattered in his sister's eyes.

"Oloroso or fino?"

Terentius gulped quietly. "Whichever is strongest."

"Oloroso it is." She straightened, holding an open bottle of dark liquid, and started pouring it into the glasses, shifting her cigarette a little between her lips. "I have to warn you: it's a little sweet."

"That's fine." He took a calming drag, the room getting thick with smoke. "I never thought I'd smoke and drink with my little sister. We shouldn't be doing this. I'm setting a bad example."

"The time to set examples is long past, Big Brother." Deirdre put the bottle away and presented a glass to him. After a moment's hesitation, he took it. "Besides, I am old enough to make my own decisions."

The woman smiled and raised her glass. "Cheers to times past."

"To times past."

They clicked their glasses together and took a sip in unison.

Terentius jerked a little in surprise before swallowing. "That's sweet. And… thick."

"Yes. I take it that you don't have sherry often?" Deirdre chuckled softly, sitting uncomfortably close to him and blowing out another snake of smoke before sipping.

"Usually just the trashy beer they have in inns and stuff." Terentius leaned back, closing his eyes and opening his mouth to let out a dark cloud to join its brethren on the ceiling. "Why did you take me out of that place? Why not Eight?"

"He seemed irritable, so I decided to give him some time. And you were always the kind one." Deirdre sipped then blew, leaning her forehead against her big brother's neck. "I missed you."

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and warm lips brushed against her hairline, loosened by the smoke and drink. "I missed you too, Baby Sister." His chest hitched slightly and his voice caught. "More than I can say."

Deirdre ran her fingers through his long, shaggy hair, playing with it slowly while they kept smoking and drinking. The smoke slipped out through the cracks in her window, twirling in the air and disappearing. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs, but neither had the motivation to do something about it.

"I promise I won't leave you again."

Deirdre blew out a cloud. "You know that I'm Evil now."

"Yeah. I know." He drank a little more sherry. "You're my little sister. I couldn't protect you once. I promise to never leave or hurt you again."

She opened her drawer and ground the last of her cigarette into an ashtray within. "I know you won't, Big Brother."

His grip on her waist became stronger and she leaned forward, kissing his cheek dangerously close to his lips, and drank the rest of her sherry. "I know you won't."

Terentius's eyes were a little glazed now. He finished his sherry and his cigarette, grinding it to dust on the ashtray, and together, they took out another pair of cigarettes and started to smoke again, Deirdre pouring them more sherry.

By the time those homemade rolls were finished, they had gone through two more glasses each. The made-for-humans alcohol was taking it's toll. Terentius put his glass on the bedside table, cuddling close to his sister and burying his face in her hair, breathing in the scent he had never forgotten.

Deirdre stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. "You're handsome, Brother. You've grown into a man over the years."

"And you've grown into a woman." Terentius nuzzled her neck, looking at her up and down. "But you shouldn't dress like that. You're showing off too much."

"Mm. You noticed?" She kissed his forehead again. "Father didn't like it either. He thought that I was selling myself short as Xykon's concubine."

Terentius looked up, trying to focus through the smog. "Has Xykon touched you?"

"We haven't slept together."

"Oh. That's good." He slung his arm around her waist, stroking her back. "My baby sister's no one's whore."

"You think so?" She ran her fingers through his hair, almost losing her hand in the green strands. "Big Brother, you'll have to work for me now that you're our prisoner. You and everyone else. Or Xykon will kill you."

"I'm okay with working for you."

She put her empty glass beside his on the bedside table. "Do you want to be my servant, Big Brother?"

He looked up at her, the glaze in his eyes evident. "Yeah."

"You want to make up for all the horrible things you did to me, don't you?"

He nodded dully.

"You'll be a good brother, then? Better than you were?"

She stroked his cheek, staring intently, and he nodded again.

"And no matter what, you'll always do what I say and never abandon me again?"

He nodded.

She kissed his forehead.

"Stay with me. I don't like the nightmares."

She stood and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor, and pulled on a night slip. The musky smoke hung around them, clogging their minds, and Deirdre slipped under the sheets into her brother's arms.

Terentius nuzzled her hair, tightening his grip around her waist, and closed his eyes.

He didn't see the dangerous gleam in his little sister's gaze.

* * *

"My head hurts."

"Stop whining."

Terentius's head was pounding, but his vision was still clear and true to him. The Theurge he only knew from stories the Order had told him was standing in front of him, mouth twisted in a snarl.

Her face was weathered, and though magic kept her alive, she definitely didn't look young. A tattoo of the skeleton of a dragon crawled up her cheek, snapping at something at the center of her forehead, and an old crescent scar marred her arm. Her black hair was pulled in a hip-long braid streaked with gray and white, but her mismatched blue eyes remained intense as ever.

This was the woman who took his baby sister away.

"It's not my responsibility to cure your hangovers, kid," she said venomously, touching Terentius's temples and muttering healing spells under her breath.

"No, but it's your responsibility to heal my servant's infection." Deirdre, her own hangover healed, gestured to the bandaging visible under his shirt. "While we are here, you can report fully about the prisoners taken and our casualties. You didn't give them to me yesterday."

"Just because you control the Snarl doesn't make me your slave, brat," the woman with the dragon tattoo spat, obviously not intimidated. "Stop acting like it."

"Prisoners, Tsukiko?"

The woman with the dragon tattoo glared, then looked back at Terentius, healing his infected wounds. "Besides your family, we got a few generals and stuff like that. And some of those old Sapphire Guard windbags."

Terentius took a sharp breath and Deirdre perked.

"Sapphire Guard?"

The woman scowled, finishing her healing. "We got that guy who worked with your mama and tossed Xykon's phylactery in the first place."

"O-Chul?"

Deirdre frowned, the little girl sniffling from her seat on the bed. _"Why did he get caught…? Not him too…"_

Terentius was frowning too, but he was less confused and more nervous.

"He should be dead by now, or at the very least ancient." Deirdre crossed her arms in front of her chest, something gleaming in her eyes that made Tsukiko instinctively tense. "How could he be fighting?"

"You tell me. He's probably using some crazy magic—he looks younger than I am." Tsukiko frowned guardedly, making a dismissive gesture. "Don't get any ideas, kid. Xykon's going to want to kill him as soon as he gets back from crushing resistance for fun."

"Mmm." She wasn't listening anymore. "Where did you put O-Chul?"

Tsukiko's eyes darted to the door. "Your funeral. I stuck him in the solo dungeon upstairs."

"Thank you. You're dismissed."

Mismatched eyes flared for a moment, but they flicked to the fractured glow in the hybrid's veins.

The woman with the dragon tattoo backed off and left without a word.

"You're not going to try to kill O-Chul, are you?" Terentius immediately piped up, bringing the woman's attention back to him. He didn't know how dangerous that was. "He was the one who always played with us as kids. And… and he helped save Other Parent! And—"

"Terentius."

He went silent immediately, shocked. His sister had never used such a terse tone with him.

"It's my decision what to do with you. I'm the one with power now." Deirdre turned her eyes on him, gold light mixed in violet eyes. Sparkles of fractured multicolored light speckled the natural gold magic.

That shouldn't be happening.

She started to smile again, the light fading, and she ran a hand through his hair, brushing the tip of his ear with her palm. He stiffened with a sharp gasp and a flush ran down his face, something uncomfortable shifting in his gut, but his little sister took no notice. She just kissed his hot forehead, slipping her hands down his arms to his wrists, where the bracelets she had magically created hugged him tightly.

"Do you know what these are?"

She leaned forward so her mouth was next to his ear and his nose was against her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent that had haunted his dreams, and her breath tickled the sensitive points, making something warm and primal tug and pool in his abdomen.

"Of course you don't. Tsukiko invented them herself, and only we and Xykon know how to make them."

Terentius swallowed hard, his gut shifting again, and he trembled lightly, suddenly aware of how adult his sister's body was and how pressed it was against his.

Her fingers played across the bands. "These keep you wherever I want you, forbid you from leaving the tower, keep you from using magic or drawing a weapon against me, and, better yet, allows me to punish you whenever you do something that I don't want you to." She interwove their fingers. "But I doubt I'll have to use that feature."

His abdomen gave a savage tug.

She suddenly separated from him, walking to the door and giving his racing heart some blessed space.

"I have a lot to do today, and Xykon and Tsukiko need to get used to the idea of you following me around before you start doing so, so explore as you wish. The bracelets keep you from going anywhere we don't want you to be, so I'm not worried."

Her smile flickered to something vaguely familiar, stark against the sharp, mysterious manner she had been using thus far.

"I'm glad you're here, Big Brother. We'll get Octy to come around."

And she was gone in a flurry of green and purple.

The wild elf swallowed hard and hugged his knees on the bed, calming his heart and ignoring the warmth in his gut.

His little sister was beautiful.

* * *

He didn't notice her at first. That was the best part of walking around on bare feet—no one heard her coming.

It was definitely O-Chul, but he was much younger than he was even when Tiasal was a child. Lines were deep in his face, but they were more from stress than anything else, and his muscles were toned and taught with a combination of work and youth, and his beard, previously brushed with snowy white in her memory, was dark blue again.

The Chaos in her veins started getting pulled slightly, like something in the air was tweaking it. It usually only did that around powerful divine magic. That was interesting.

He was also stripped down to his briefs, revealing the old white scar tissue marring every part of his body, remainders from his last stay with Xykon. He was leaning forward, frowning at the ground and tracing pictures that only he could see. Probably a plan.

"_Leave him alone. Go back to your room. Smother yourself with a pillow. Never hurt them again." _

"_He'll try to trick you. You know that."_

"_Are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?"_

A servant girl walked through her, lugging a bucket at her hip, and knelt at the floor, starting to scrub the old stones. She was wearing a tight little skirt—the sort Master used to tell his favorite girls to wear—and blood was trickling down the inside of her leg and splashing on the ground. It would take forever to clean the floor if she kept bleeding on it.

"O-Chul."

The man looked up sharply.

His eyes widened.

Deirdre dragged her eyes from the little girl and the glaring goblins around her, walking up to the bars and resting her hands on them. "Do you recognize me?"

He stood up, frowning. "I… believe I do." His brow furrowed and his eyes remained carefully on her face. "But the person I believe you to be died when she was a child."

"Mmm. Yes, that would make it a little difficult for her to be standing in front of you, wouldn't it?"

"_I'm not standing in front of him. You are."_

His eyes were still fixed on her.

"What if she didn't die, though? What if she were taken away? Maybe she was even taken to this place." She rested her forehead against the bars, meeting his gaze. He was still wary. He wouldn't believe she wasn't some sort of illusion without something a little more convincing.

"I can prove it, if you're willing to believe."

She leaned back, letting her hand go to the neck of her dress. "It's stretched a little since puberty, but the scars are still there."

A slight flush came to his face, but his eyes stayed serious, watching as she drew back the neck to reveal two puncture wounds on the side of her breast. "Do you want to see where the bottom teeth went?"

"I'm not going to ask you to show me that." His eyes lingered on the scars, still wary, and he remained silent for a moment. "Anyone who saw her body would have seen her scars. It wouldn't take very much to guess what did it." His fingers twitched slightly on the bars. "A scar wouldn't be hard to add to a powerful illusion."

Deirdre frowned thoughtfully, her fingers lightly tracing the scars at her breast.

"You saved me from the snake that gave me this, O-Chul. Remember? I had climbed up the mountain that my home was at the foot of because I was curious, even though the Order warned me about the rattlesnakes. You were the only one who guessed where I went."

She let the neck go, covering the scars again. "You startled me when I was watching the snake. I scared it and it bit my breast." A smile flickered over her lips. "You threw it away and carried me back down to home. I couldn't stop crying."

He was staring at her face now.

"You didn't mind the tears or the blood. You just kept holding me and started telling me a story about when you were a child and you fell from a tree and broke your ankle. You said that you cried then too." The smile became slightly more concrete. "It made me feel better because I didn't feel so weak for crying, because you were one of the strongest people I ever knew."

She flicked her eyes up, staring at slightly glassy dark eyes. "By the time I you brought me to Uncle Durkon, I wasn't crying anymore. I didn't have to."

The little girl beside her wasn't crying or screaming for once. She was leaning against the bars, speaking in time to Deirdre.

Deirdre reached out, grasping one of his hands and holding it tightly.

"…You are Tiasal."

His hand came up, touching her cheek, then her feather-soft hair. "You're alive. By the Twelve Gods."

He took a moment, his eyes swirling with thoughts and reactions, until his expression finally darkened.

"Have you been here with that abomination for all these years?"

"We're talking about Xykon, right?" Deirdre's smile took a slightly darker quality. "Who else would take me?"

She drew away from his touch. She had been out of his reach for longer than he knew.

"But I should be asking _you_ questions. You're a young man. You were middle-aged when I was a child."

"I don't think I should tell you about that. Not yet, at least." He gripped the bars tightly, his brow furrowing. "Information is dangerous, little one. I don't want Xykon to think that there is a need to try to get something out of you."

"O-Chul, I'm—"

"What the hell are you doing up here?"

O-Chul looked up sharply, as if he were strung to a wire, while Deirdre's glance was more languid. Xykon was standing at the door, hands glowing black. "If you're not here to help make Kentucky Fried Human, then out. You got family members to creep the hell out of. That green-haired kid looked like a virgin fresh out of Hooters."

O-Chul's face was the picture of puzzlement.

"We have a lot to get caught up on, and your grudge has waited years. I'm sure you can wait a little longer." Deirdre looked back at O-Chul, smiling. "Besides, it looks like he has information that may be useful. Without Father here to worry about such things, someone has to remind you of the importance of strategy and knowledge."

The prisoner's eyes darted to her face.

"Talk like that ended up with your dad screwing your mom like a jailhouse whore and you getting born! Do you want to make some hybrid bastard?"

She arched an eyebrow, scowling.

"Well, you're probably already knocked up already anyway. You should have probably figured out how to use protection spells before you decided to pin—"

"That's enough." Deirdre rolled her eyes, the fracturing glow in her veins strengthening. "I won't object to a little revenge, but I don't want him to die."

"What makes you think that you have any choice?"

O-Chul warily looked between Deirdre and Xykon, tensing. They were too familiar with each other for the little girl he used to know to have just been a prisoner. (And what was this about pregnancy?) He tried absorbing the knowledge, tensed and ready to attempt to distract the lich if he decided to get too physical with the young woman.

"Because I do."

White, carefully tied together magic mixing with black, flared at Xykon's hands as he drew one back and slapped her across the face.

O-Chul shouted and Deirdre hit the wall, a handprint flaring in red across her cheek, but she said nothing.

Xykon immediately slipped his hand in her hair, grasping it tightly. "Get downstairs and start working on securing world domination or by Evil, I'll rip those disgusting ears off."

Deirdre's mouth grew in a grin, sharp white teeth gleaming like diamonds, and fractured light glimmered like stone chips in her eyes.

"Of course. Whatever you want. You know that's what I'll always do, don't you?"

Her eyes sparkled as if a thousand fireflies were trapped inside and flashing in their death throws, giving out their final tiny screams.

"Tiasal!"

"I'll always stay here and do what you want me to." The fireflies concentrated at her iris, moving into her pupil until there was no black left. "But I think you should be more careful about how you treat me. I like honesty. I don't like cruelty."

The phalange tightened painfully in her hair.

"Get downstairs, half-breed bastard."

Xykon roughly shoved her towards the door and she stumbled away, eyes still glowing and mouth still fixed in a Jack-O-Lantern grin, and she disappeared down the stairs.

"How dare you…"

"Shut up, paladin. You have no idea what she does to nice guys. You'll be eaten alive." Xykon turned towards O-Chul, the gems in his sockets glowing brightly as he stared for a while, deciding on his fate and weighing revenge and Deirdre's wrath against each other.

Deirdre would want him to die soon enough. That's what happened with Redcloak. She'd have her way with him, then Xykon could have his. He was loathe to have sloppy seconds, but even he understood the implications of her little fit.

"I could kill her any time I want, you know. I've only kept her around because she was useful to hang over Reddy's head, and now, she's useful against you."

The paladin's frown tightened in an effort to keep his feelings from reaching his eyes, but Xykon could tell that he understood the threat.

"Make sure she stays useful and be a little looser with your info than you were last time."

The paladin didn't even think of the possibility that Xykon was lying. He was hooked and trapped the same way Redcloak was.

A slight feeling of dark joy curled in Xykon's mind and empty abdomen. Even after all these years, he loved watching these lesser beings squirm.

"Remember that shark? It missed you."

Xykon was getting a sadistic high, but he was smart enough to know what was going on, even as he prepared to take part in one of his few joys in unlife. Too late, he was realizing that the death of Redcloak and the focus of his subordinate's delusions heralded the loss of his control over her and started to shake the careful cage of manipulation he had trapped her inside.

The only reason he had allowed her to have as much Snarl power as he did was that he couldn't take it all without going insane and she was his slave, and he had thought that that had been a safe bet to make.

He wouldn't be able to kill her as long as she had that power.

If she slipped out from under his thumb, she actually posed a threat to everything he had worked for.

Xykon didn't care what he had to do or who he had to sacrifice: he would not lose control.


	2. Hauntings From the Mind

Part II

Fallacia Diabolī

et

Descensus Dominae

* * *

"Lydia, will you pay attention?"

"We're probably being watched."

"You know that Xykon isn't that meticulous."

Lydia was still frowning at her self-made puzzle, ignoring Octavius's furious prowling and avoiding meeting Abram's gaze. She was lost in puzzles, and not all of them were drawn out on the stone in front of her.

"We have to find a way to find T, get to Tia, and escape." Abram shifted on the cold floor, gripping the bars between them. "I can't think of this by myself, and Eight is not in any state to be making plans."

Why had Tiasal (or Deirdre, whatever she called herself) taken Terentius? He had obviously been the most vulnerable one there, no matter how much he tried to hide it. She would have picked up on that. In Lydia's memory, Octavius was the main nasty one—if Tiasal was angry at her family for some reason, he would have been her first target to torture. But it didn't look like she meant to torture Terentius, what with the way she hugged and babied him. (It actually felt a little… odd, how she did it. It didn't feel like a normal hug to watch. It seemed a lot more sensual than that, which made Lydia's insides crawl a little.)

Was she looking for comfort? Reassurance? Terentius would have been an excellent choice then.

If that was her goal, then it was possible that Xykon was worse to her than they thought. It was possible that she wasn't actually willing.

It didn't look like she wasn't willing when she wiped the floor with them on the mountain.

Lydia shook herself, the image of the new old Tiasal coming back to her mind. She didn't know enough to piece all this together. Maybe she—

"T!"

Lydia jumped in surprise and a rattle ran down the bars as Octavius slammed against them. Abram looked up sharply, expression switching from puzzled to excited to puzzled again.

Terentius, dressed in loose-fitting shirt and pants, walked barefoot down the stairs, immediately running to his brother. "Eight! You're cuts aren't getting bad, are they?"

"That doesn't matter. Has she hurt you?"

Terentius shook his head, unbuttoning his shirt. Lydia didn't move to stand up, but she kept watching, eyes flicking over the scars on her cousin's chest that used to be infected slashes.

"She cleaned me up and had me healed." He buttoned up his shirt again. "She's been taking care of me."

"Sure she has. And she left us to rot. She's trying to _trick_ you!"

Terentius shook his head. "No, she's not. She's still our sister. She's just frightened and confused, and you railing at her every time she comes down here isn't the most reassuring thing. She wants to take you all out but she doesn't want to be beaten up the moment she does!"

"She's killed people!"

"So have we!"

That made Octavius's mouth shut tight.

Terentius sighed, looking imploringly at his brother, then his cousins. "Guys, I know she's rough around the edges, and she admitted to killing a lot of people willingly, but she's still Tiasal."

"Tiasal would have never done these things," Abram said, leaning against the bars. "T, we need to find a way to neutralize her power and make sure she can't hurt anyone anymore. We have a responsibility to the world."

Terentius's gaze settled on Abram, his eyes creepily expressionless. "I have a responsibility to my baby sister. Not the world."

Octavius touched his brother's hand. "What if she's not our sister anymore?"

There was a pause.

"Big Brother?"

There was a quiet shuffling as someone barefoot stepped down the stairs. Terentius pulled away, eyes zeroing on a mark on his sister's cheek as she daintily stepped to the ground.

"What happened?"

A bruise, a hand shape with definite finger bones imprinted, was spread like a spider web over her cheek. Terentius's hand came up, brushing against it lightly. "Did Xykon do this?"

Deirdre shrugged, eyes distant, and slipped away from him. "It's still there? I got it hours ago…" She shook her head, walking to the bars. "Are any of you in need of healing?"

Octavius withdrew immediately, leering warily, and after a moment, Abram stepped away, struggling to keep his pain from registering on his face.

Lydia watched Deirdre's face carefully, her eyes especially. They kept on flicking to the same spots on the floor, and once or twice to the space next to Octavius, the tips of her fingers twitching lightly.

The half-sylph, half-human hugged her knees and simply continued to stare at the old little girl she loved.

"I take that as a yes." Deirdre leaned against the bars, flicking her eyes up and down the cells. "I'll send someone down to heal you. Do you want to catch up? Or am I unwelcome?"

Octavius didn't give anyone else a chance to talk. He snarled furiously, swiping at the bars.

"Get away!"

Pain crossed Terentius's face, but Deirdre's face was blank, disconnected, her eyes looking at something no one else could see, the bruise on her cheek becoming purple.

"Very well."

She stepped away, something so subtly off with her movements that Lydia was the only one to see it, and she started to walk up the stairs. "Terentius? Do you want to come with me?"

There was silence.

Octavius was pleading with his eyes. He was asking his brother to take a side. He was asking his twin to stay with them and reject their errant sister, because if he went with her, then that meant he had made his choice against them.

Terentius couldn't look at him.

"Let me help you up."

Terentius took his little sister's hand and led her away, but only Lydia knew that he couldn't take her back from where she really was.

Abram walked to the back of his cell. He sat down, closing his eyes, and started murmuring silently to himself again.

Soft sobbing echoed from Octavius's cell.

Lydia looked back to her puzzle and started working it again.

* * *

"Eight will come around."

"I wonder about that."

Terentius frowned worriedly, helping his little sister sit on the bed, moonlight filtering through the giant window across them.

"Are you okay?" He cupped her face, examining her eyes, searching for his sister and not finding her. "Your eyes…"

"You're tense."

"There's something wrong with your eyes."

Deirdre touched his cheek, stroking it gently, before she pulled away, rubbing her temples and opening her bedside table.

"Tia, you can't just give me a light every time you want me to shut up!"

"Watch me."

She pulled out a metal case, pulling out a plain roll of paper, pushing it between her brother's lips and flicking on a lighter beneath it.

He stiffened, then relaxed slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I'm missing a lot of them." She closed the case, putting it back in the drawer. "I'll start stocking up more for you."

Terentius took the roll out of his mouth, puffing out a snake of smoke, and frowned, standing up. "Tiasal, please. Are you sick? Or upset?" His hand came up and traced the handprint on her cheek. "Xykon did this. Why are you still with him?"

"No one else will take me." She cupped his face in her hands, eyes distant, and she smiled, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. "You're so much like Daddy. You would have gotten along with him. He loved tricking so much."

Terentius frowned in confusion.

She straightened, kissing his nose. "Keep smoking. It makes you looser."

"Tia, I don't _want_ to be looser. I need my head. I need to talk to you."

"Talk is cheap."

They both looked up at the door to see a familiar skeleton standing there, red gems deep set in his eyes glowing malevolently.

Terentius's grip on his sister tightened spasmodically.

"You hit my baby sister."

"Yeah, so did you. And so did she. Now out—I want to talk to my crazy lackey."

Terentius glared, eyes chips of flint behind dark green bangs.

"Leave us, Terentius. Go and… amuse yourself."

He looked down at his little sister, conflicted. She gave him one hard look, and he finally released her, scowling at Xykon as he passed and left the room.

Xykon closed the door behind him, prowling towards the green woman, something unusually calculated about his movements.

"I don't think that I'm going to kill the paladin yet."

Deirdre looked up, eyes flickering with fireflies.

"I figure that whatever you do to him will be better than what I'll stoop to. Then I can kill him."

Xykon was a breath away now, the aura of death and magic radiating off of him. So close, she could see the microscopic ropes of chaotic and Evil magic twining around his joints and bones, holding him together.

Her father had put that Evil magic there. The Snarl had put in the Chaos.

Deirdre felt a cold finger touch her chin, tilting it up, and she closed her eyes, the bruise on her cheek throbbing and the bone caressing the edge of her jaw.

"I bet you like having your 'family' around."

The finger drifted to the edge of her earlobe, sending shudders down spine as the sensitive elven nerves flared, lighting a deeply carnal fire in her abdomen.

"Y-Yes."

"Do you like it when that green-haired kid gives you hugs? Sleeps in your bed?"

The ice-cold, nearly paralyzing touch traveled up her ear to the tip. She squirmed, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, moans escaping her lips.

"Y… yes…"

"Why do you think he's doing it? He loves you?"

There was a layer of mocking in the word 'love'. His fingers got firmer on her ear, tweaking it, and molten heat trickled down within, her heart racing as it ran past.

"No. He's… he's trying to trick me…" His other hand slipped to the small of her back. "They're all trying to trick me. You just need to look at their eyes. They hate me."

"Of course they do. Your whore of a mother did the nasty with a goblin while their daddy waited on her hand and foot." His fingers pinched her ear, eliciting a choked cry. "And you have to admit—you're pretty weird looking. They'll never be able to forget what they went through when they look at you."

The hand against her back pulled her close, her hot and pulsing abdomen pressed against cold bones.

"And guess what? It's all going to end the same way. You'll fall for them, think that they care, and they'll dump you just like your dad dumped you and his baby mama after I killed her."

He leaned forward, his teeth an inch from her ear.

"I won't care either way. I don't care what you are or who your slut parents were. I don't give a damn as long as you stay loyal."

His hand left her ear, giving her heated abdomen some blessed relief, only to make the temperature continue to rise by running his hand down her side, brushing against her breast.

"But if I'm gone, you'll have no one."

He let her go, removing both hands and taking a step back, but as if he had her on strings, she matched his step, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against an icy cheekbone, then a jaw, then teeth.

"I'm yours. You know that. They're all trying to trick me. You're the only one who's not!"

"Remember it." He clamped his hands on her shoulders, pushing her away and fixing red gems on wide firefly-ridden eyes. "Take off your clothes."

Deirdre trembled, reaching back and unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor. The last of her covering was just a jet-colored strapless bra and a lacy thong, nothing to hide the tremors running down her body.

"Take it off," he said, gesturing to her bra.

She kept shaking, reaching back and unclasping it.

It landed on the floor with a muted bump.

Red gems looked her up and down, arms crossed, gaze lingering on the ivy green areolas, then on the bite marks she had on the edge of them—two fangs at her breast, the bottom teeth at the dark green circles—before looking up at her flushed face.

Xykon let out a low chuckle, rattling his bones together, and he turned around.

He left without so much as a look back.

* * *

Deirdre was quietly slipping on her nightdress when Terentius came back, a storm cloud following him around. "Did he do anything?"

"He does plenty of things, Big Brother. You'll need to ask a more specific question." Deirdre straightened her nightdress, glancing back at him with fireflies in her eyes and smiling.

"Did he touch you?"

"Oh please. You're just as paranoid as Daddy. Do you really think a walking skeleton without any organs to speak of would care about such things?"

Deirdre was still smiling as she sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a hairbrush from the bedside table and running it through her hair. "You should be glad, though. O-Chul is safe for now."

"O-Chul? You mean our parents' friend? What about him?"

Deirdre looked up, frowning in confusion, but the fireflies gathered to her pupils and dispersed.

She shrugged, starting to brush her hair again, and she crossed one leg over the other. Her night dress, already short, hiked up, revealing an elegant green thigh.

She felt his eyes on her. Deirdre kept brushing her hair, whispers echoing from the shadows on the walls. Terentius's shadow detached itself from him, sitting on the bed besides her, calling her things, and its hands immediately went to her breasts, fondling them roughly. Terentius didn't say anything to stop his shadow. The names bounced in her head, accompanied only by the giggles of departed children and fireflies.

Her big brother swallowed hard, sitting next to her. "So what do you plan to do about Octavius, Lydia, and Abram?"

He rested his hand on her bare thigh, a gesture that could be attributed to brotherly obliviousness to his sister's sexuality. It wasn't that. Deirdre could hear his heavy breathing, the quiet biting of his lip, and loudest of all, she could hear his racing heart pounding in his chest as blood shot downwards in his veins.

She continued brushing.

"Octavius could be a bodyguard, I suppose, if he only stopped trying to kill me. If worse comes to worse, Abram or you could handle that. I think Lydia should be more of a consultant. If memory serves, she's good at strategy and her class should provide some helpful knowledge on how to sustain our army and nations. Does she still play with those puzzles?"

He swallowed again. A bead of sweat ran down his face to his neck. "All the time. She loves them."

"I think that I would like to play chess with her again. She taught me, remember? I played often with Father. He taught me things." She looked up at his face, violet eyes free of fireflies, and instead, there was something predatory. "I'd love to try them on someone."

Terentius swallowed nervously, gently running his hand through her hair. She stopped brushing, instead putting the brush to the bedside table again. "Um, I'm going to get ready for bed."

He stood up, his face flushed, and walked to the bathroom, leaving his sister alone with his shadow.

Deirdre stared as the shadows danced across the walls, pulling themselves towards her, whispering, calling her bad names. When they used to do this, she would go to her father. Let him hold her. Let him try to trick her. It would make the whispers go away, and she loved his touch more than any other man's. His and Right-Eye's touches were always the best. The two men she hated most.

But it was okay now. She didn't need their lying hugs and kisses. The shadows didn't trick her.

"Please drink. Come on, I don't know how to do this…"

Deirdre looked to the seat beside the window to see the source of the voice, accustomed to intruders suddenly materializing.

A fey little girl on the window-side armchair with an open shirt and swollen breasts was holding a newborn, groaning softly as she tried to get the baby to drink. Platinum blond hair lay on her shoulders loosely, looking silver in the light, and the baby's head flopped side to side, unsupported, but the girl determinedly kept pressing her nipple to the babe's mouth to no avail.

There was blood between her legs and a big hole in her stomach.

"Snow."

The girl looked up at Deirdre, gray eyes big. "Clash."

The door opened and the little girl was gone. Deirdre glanced to see her brother, wearing pajamas she had taken from her father's old room, walking out. The taste of Redcloak's blood coated her teeth for a moment.

She settled under the covers and her brother slipped in with her. Her breasts pressed against his chest and she wrapped her legs around his, keeping their skin together. She felt him shudder, and a tiny whimper escaped his throat as his body responded to her. She didn't acknowledge it.

She just stayed pressed up and fell asleep, waiting for the whispers to stop.

* * *

"You've grown, little one."

Deirdre was sitting on the floor, facing the bars between her and O-Chul, smiling slightly. The little girl lay down with her head on the paladin's lap, violet eyes unwaveringly on her. The girl seemed to like it here. Deirdre hadn't seen her since she had seen O-Chul the first time.

"And you haven't."

He nodded slowly, eyes steady and calm.

"How are you so young, O-Chul?"

"I should be the one asking questions, little one." The paladin touched the bars in front of him. "What happened after you came to be here?"

She shrugged, suspicious of the change in topic but willing to be patient. "Xykon taught me magic. He taught me spells that Aarindarius never would have."

He nodded again, quiet, and a woman that he didn't acknowledge appeared and leaned against the bars, ear-length black hair pushed away from her Azurian face.

"You have a messed up head. I don't like being in here."

"Tell me, Tiasal. Have you become Evil?"

Deirdre hugged her knees, cocking her head slowly. His eyes were on her the same way they always had been when she was young and had done something against the rules. He would always ask her point-blank if she had done something, that look always in his eyes. She'd never lied to him. "Yes."

She wasn't lying now.

He was quiet for a while. "Why?"

"There was no option." She shrugged, looking up at the stone ceiling, letting her mind wander. The light streaking from the window was unusually bright, and the woman was still standing there, as if expecting an answer.

"There's always an option, little one. Sometimes, you just need help to have the strength to take it."

The paladin shifted, jostling the little girl in his lap. "Do you have a Go board?"

"Yes. I'll get it." She stood up and left.

* * *

Xykon sat on the top of Celestia, watching in amusement as the Snarl ate at the mountain, fire licking at the perfect little homes as fallen heroes struggled to battle the abomination and get the young dead and the non-fighters away. The Snarl was eating from the top downwards and the flames were clawing from the foot of the mountain upwards, trapping all the denizens and forcing the dead mages to try to get everyone through portals to other planes. There were few left. Xykon had already destroyed the Beastlands, Arborea (for some reason, two crazy elves, one with blue hair and one with weirdly familiar purple hair, really had it out for him. Stupid elves. They should've known to not try to fight), Bytopia, and Elysium. The Celestia people would need to run off to a neutral afterlife. And then he'd destroy that too. Maybe he'd usher everyone into Pandemonium. That'd be fun to watch.

He looked down at the angry prisoner he had at his side. Oh, right. He had also paid a little visit to Carceri.

"Why are you showing me this?" spat Right-Eye, a positively murderous expression on his face, but he made no attempt to push out of the ropes of Snarl tying him up. He saw how it was eating away at the mountain, and the searing, ripping feeling on his skin where the Chaos touched was very frightening. He didn't know how true the 'unmaking' idea was.

"Hey, I figured you'd like the show. It reminds me of a few times adventurers came and slaughtered those people I took from your town. Hey, didn't your family get killed in one of those?"

The goblin's eye got wide, what little color left in his face draining.

"You knew?"

"Oh yeah. Your wife was pretty enough for a goblin. I noticed. But I liked her and your brats better when they were screaming while those adventurers skewered them."

Right-Eye took a moment to gape, then blood rushed to his face and he bared his teeth. "YOU BASTARD!"

He strained against Choas ropes, fire in his blood, and he kept shouting insults, past the point where he knew what he was saying anymore.

"Oh come on. _That's_ what gets you angry? I get your brother to kill you, I destroy your world, I screwed over your niece, I got her to rape her dad—"

He froze, the blood draining again so fast that he should have gotten dizzy. He didn't feel it.

"You… you what?"

"I got her to rape her dad. Do I really need to repeat myself? I'm betting you watched the whole thing."

The screams from the denizens rose, the Snarl eating away at them, and the heroes abandoned their tasks. A familiar Azurian man with gray hair and a gray moustache herded the last of the people through a portal to another plane. He glanced up the mountain, fixing Xykon with a icy look for a moment. He then turned away and jumped in himself.

"You _got_ her to?"

"Oh, you didn't think that she got so angry at him on her own, did you?" A hollow chuckle rumbled in the lich's ribcage, watching as the clouds were stained with embers. "I just made sure she knew who she could trust and who she couldn't. I wouldn't want to see such a pretty girl like her get her heart broken by another father figure, would I?"

The goblin jerked, looking nauseous. "You don't know anything about that. I loved her."

"Well, she knows something about it, and she doesn't love you." The lich's skull was motionless, but he was grinning. "And I was just making sure she didn't make the same mistake with Reddy."

"It's _your_ fault she did that to my brother?"

The nausea was gone. All there was was rage and horror. "_You_ told my niece to… to…"

"Oh, the idea was all hers. She has a thing for family members, quick warning. She just did it because she wanted to do it before he did." Another hollow chuckle that made the goblin's skin crawl. "I only encouraged the notion. She was convinced Reddy was going to try to rape her, just like that creepy cleric I had a while back. You remember him? You sat in on him using her to jack off, didn't you?"

His eye widened, the memory making his stomach clench. He still had nightmares about it. "How the hell do you know that?"

"She told me. She tells me lots of things. Hey, did you drop in on any of the times she blew him?"

Anger flared again, hot as any fire at the mountain's foot. "THAT BASTARD MADE HER—"

"Yeah. And way more. I didn't care as long as Reddy didn't find out, and he never did."

"_YOU—_"

The Chaos ropes cut hard into his skin, but he didn't notice. He struggled against it, teeth bared furiously and pure hate burning in his one eye.

"Oh stop protecting her. She raped your brother. She may be totally off her rocker, but she still did it. Deirdre shouldn't be any concern of yours."

Right-Eye grit his teeth, blood starting to leak from cuts made by the ropes. "It's _not_ Deirdre that I'm worried about."

Xykon's hollow chuckle gave him chills. "You'll learn to let go of the kid's ghost soon enough. I need a new focus for her crazies, or she'll stop being controllable. I need someone who she's really angry at and who'll be entertaining for me to watch squirm."

He slapped his frozen phalange against the ghost's back, flesh spreading out from his hand, not giving life but recreating a young body out of only white, tied together magic.

"Guess who's the lucky guy."

* * *

"H-h-here, miss."

Tsukiko took the brown paper bag gingerly, frowning at it distastefully before looking down at the beaten human cowering in the corner. "This is everything?"

"Y-yes."

Tsukiko wasn't sure if she should be trusting the little mouse. There was no proof that this human knew what the hell anything in this broken building was. Anyone could just walk in and pretend that they used to work there. She didn't particularly care.

"How many doses and how big?"

"Is it serious?"

Tsukiko nodded slowly. The layer of dirt on the ground was scuffing her boots, annoyingly enough. She could always magic it away, but it was a drag that they had to get dirty in the first place.

"Three to five milligrams between two to three doses. But start at half a milligram. It's really strong. A-and don't freeze it or boil it and keep it someplace room temperature, dark, and dry."

"Alright."

She turned away, clutching the bag in hand. She had to step over a fallen counter, boxes scattered everywhere, some broken and some not. Her eyes fell on a box holding a pregnancy test meant for people too poor to get a cleric to test them. As an afterthought, she picked it up and put it in the brown bag, muttering a charm to make it stronger and more accurate.

"You don't want to know anything else? The side effects? The signs of overdose? The things you can't take it with?"

"I don't care how they work. They'll do the job, won't they?"

The human frowned, straightening in the corner. "Either that or kill you."

"It's not for me. I don't care if this person dies." She clutched the bag, doing a little math in her head (a few days… with the spell, the test should be able to pick that up). A thin smile came to her lips. "It doesn't matter either way."

The human in the corner watched with wide eyes.

Tsukiko winked, eyes flashing out of sync with each other, and walked out of the broken pharmacy.


	3. Bad Memories

Part III

Malefacti Libidinis

* * *

When Terentius woke, his sister was gone.

Her smell was embedded in the sheets. Forgetting who she was, he instinctively twisted his fingers in them, awful heat pounding in his abdomen, and he kept breathing the scent, the image of the woman's bare thighs flashing in his head, followed by the little slip tight enough on the bust to show her nipples, the feeling of her bare legs wrapped around his hips, rocking in her sleep… Then he remembered.

He jerked out of the bed, retching, struggling to breathe past the smell clinging to him. By the elven gods, was he out of his _mind?_ That was his baby sister! The kid who he helped teach to swim, who he carried home when her legs got tired, whose dolls he fixed whenever she tore them accidentally with her claws… his sister!

His stomach jerked nauseously, then guilt hardened like cooled rock in his gut.

She was the girl who he had felt so angry at when he was a kid, who he let Octavius beat up, but who always made him feel guilty for it whenever she just looked at him with those big violet eyes.

He hadn't been the best brother, but he'd be damned if he didn't love that girl.

And he wanted to… to…

He couldn't even think it.

Terentius shuddered, trying to swallow past his dry mouth, and walked to the bathroom, pulling his shirt off. Her scent clung to him tightly, haunting his stressed brain and lighting fire in his gut.

The memory of her unclothed green thigh flashed in his mind.

He called up the image of his little sister, ten years old, lying on a tree branch with absolutely no clothes on, violet eyes sleepily closed halfway and the light slipping between the leaves making patches of her green skin brighter than the rest. He remembered smiling, imagining how frustrated Haley would be that she had stripped off her clothes again, and then tucking a lock of purple hair behind a big green ear. The memory was clear and sharp despite all the years that had passed because of all the times he had called it up, trying to motivate himself to keep going when there was nothing left to fight for.

His sister had always been beautiful. He just needed to remember the days before her breasts had developed and her hips had filled out, the days before she had disappeared.

Comparing the two images, the naked girl on the tree branch and the woman wearing a tight slip and wrapping her legs around him at night, he couldn't make them connect.

His mind strayed to the memories of her thighs, the dresses dipping deep between her breasts, the glossy violet curls falling past her shoulder blades…

Terentius groaned softly, and he shoved his pants and underwear off, not daring to look down and see what he knew was there. He turned on the shower, stepping under a jet of ice-cold water. It was a shock, but it was what he needed.

He remembered her fingers running along his chest while she bathed him.

The water washed it away. It washed all the bad thoughts away.

He'd have to talk to Tiasal later. If they were going to keep sleeping in the same bed, she needed to wear something that let him feel a little less.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes and started to wash.

* * *

Ysgard's skies roared with their three rivers, lightning arcing to hit any unfortunate denizen in the way, and rain of water, ice, fire, and earth fell, searing skin with electric agony.

Deirdre stood on one of the roots of Yggdrasil, holding out her arms and tilting her face to the sky, savoring the painful rain, keeping her eyes closed so she could feel it more sharply.

Yes. This was a good place. Such a good place.

Her skin burned without mark. The ice and fire seeped into her veins, mixed and swallowed by the pure Chaos straining in her blood. Cuts opened up at her fingertips, breaking from the splintering cold and blistering heat. If she had opened her eyes, she would have seen that her blood was no longer completely red. The fractured, torn white ate at it now.

The Chaos cracked from her palms, blasting through the air. She wouldn't destroy the land itself. She liked it too much. But she had no such reservations for the inhabitants.

The people had learned from Xykon's assault on the Good planes and Deirdre's assault on the Evil. The people, so-called heroes, fled immediately, the Chaos eating at their Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral insides only making them faster about it. Mortals thought they were capable of being Chaotic? They didn't know what true Chaos was. They didn't know how orderly they were compared to the being that had stewed inside their planet. They didn't know Khaos.

They opened portals, streaking through them, and the stupid few who turned and tried to fight were half-devoured by Chaos, sending them running. A shard of ice as long as a thumb fell, striking Deirdre's cheek and sending a shock of exquisite pain through her face and blood before the cut healed over with scarce a scar. All that was left was a smear of red and broken rainbow.

After the inhabitants were gone and the screams settled, Deirdre still stood with her arms outstretched, fireflies dancing behind closed eyelids. The wind cut into her, lashing her hair against her face like a thousand tiny whips, drawing strings of blood that appeared just as fast as they healed.

Deirdre opened her mouth, letting the fire and ice fall and blister her, and she let out a long scream that not even the storm could hide. It fired up the elements, making the very sky and land themselves wail with her, but not even that could match the howl falling out now. There was a woman and a child shrieking, years and years threading out, and a thousand other less prominent beings within joined their cries as well. The fire and ice hammered down, catching the roots on fire before the water put them out, only to have the fire start again, and the earth turned to rocks falling from the heavens until the stars themselves rattled and fell, rocketing to the land.

The world reached crescendo, fire and ice weaving into fractured white hair, and the scream ended.

* * *

"I wiped away the people of Ysgard today."

O-Chul was expressionless as he made his next move on the Go board. "Did they escape?"

The little girl and the Azurite woman had become permanent fixtures in the room. The little one had been crying, but she was calm now, her head in the lap of the sitting Azurian. The Azurite was stroking the girl's hair, eyes soft if a little confused when looking at her, but Deirdre could tell that she was listening hard.

"I don't feel them. They escaped, probably to Limbo or the Outlands. Outlands, if they have any sense."

"Feel them?"

Deirdre thought for a moment before putting down the next piece. "I feel the people taken by the Snarl. They're in my blood. I only assume it's the same for Xykon."

The Azurian woman shifted uncomfortably. The little girl rolled her eyes up to her face, arching a purple eyebrow dryly, and the woman shrugged sheepishly, gently stroking her temples, then her hair.

O-Chul's gaze was careful on Deirdre. "You're not the same as him, Tiasal."

"Well, I'm not an unholy abomination brought back in a mere semblance of life, but otherwise…"

He leaned forward, his eyes calm and gentle, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. His gaze stayed on her face, never flicking down at her body. That was odd. "You're not the same as him. He's fully aware of what he does and he revels in it. You're only misguided and need help and caring."

She tensed, hardening noticeably in the face of his tenderness, provoking a curious cock of the head from the Azurian woman.

"No one can care for me. Don't pretend you do, O-Chul."

His expression flickered as he stifled a wince, but he stayed calm. The Azurite blinked in confusion, glancing down at the little girl in her lap.

"I told you, didn't I?" the little girl said tiredly, snuggling closer.

"Well, yes, but I didn't think that…"

O-Chul took a breath to speak and Deirdre stopped listening to the two.

"Why do you think so?"

"It's true." The bitterness was biting on her tongue. "It's your turn."

He put down his piece. "What makes you say that it's true?"

"I'm half goblin and half elf, aren't I?" She put down her piece without thinking. "It was an affair. I'm a bastard."

"Bastard or not, it doesn't automatically disqualify you from being loved." He carefully made his next move. "Neither does your blood. You have no say in who your parents are."

She set down her piece, this time not even pretending she was paying attention. "No, but that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter to my brothers, it doesn't matter to the Order, and it doesn't matter to anyone else."

O-Chul arched an eyebrow, looking up at her and frowning. "You don't believe that your family loved you?"

"Of course they didn't. They were laughing at me the whole time. They hated me—you could see it in their eyes."

The Azurian woman had an odd look on her face as she shook her head. "Would your brother be doting on you like that if he hated you? The poor boy is your slave because of his love. Would anyone really go that far for a ruse?"

"They would. They all would. He's just trying to trick me again!" Deirdre broke Xykon's rule and snapped at one of the people no one else acknowledged in front of someone.

O-Chul frowned in confusion, turning around to see who she was talking to. He only saw a wall.

"Trick you? How? Why? Why would he stand up to the _world destroying lich_ for hitting you if he didn't love you?"

"Mijung, haven't you spent enough time here to realize that it's useless to try to talk sense?"

There was another person. A goblin. Deirdre didn't recognize him. He was leaning on the bars of the cell, his ears twitching nervously and his eyes big pools of gold. "She's, um…"

"Crazier than a box of frogs, I noticed."

"Crazy or not, I know what I see! Now get out!"

The walls started to shake and Deirdre's eyes glowed with fury. The goblin yelped, disappearing and reappearing besides the Azurian woman. "Mijung, hurry! Get up!"

"I'm not going back in there! We'd go crazy too!"

"Insane is better than destroyed, right?"

"GET OUT!"

The walls shook hard enough so dust was falling from the ceiling. The Azurian woman grasped the little girl tightly, but the kid only squirmed in her grasp, flailing. "I'm not going!"

The goblin trembled, eyes resembling those of a spooked horse, and he clutched the woman's shoulder, trying to stay calm. "Mijung…"

"It's okay, Yutrin. I promise we'll be okay."

They both knew that she couldn't promise that. He seemed calmer nonetheless.

"Tiasal."

Arms slipped around her shoulders and she found herself hugged close, her face resting against his neck. "Tiasal, come back. I'm here."

The room stopped shaking. The little girl settled, going limp in the Azurian woman's arms. The woman and the goblin exchanged glances, the goblin obviously more frightened than his partner, but they both sat back down, silent as to keep from upsetting the hybrid again. The goblin wrapped his arm around the woman's shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, getting just as much comfort as he was giving. The woman seemed to like his touches and leaned into them, soothingly stroking the little girl again.

O-Chul glanced at the wall where they were, eyes not registering them, but Deirdre became calm again.

"I'm here, little one."

* * *

"I heard that you let Ysgard stay intact."

Deirdre stopped in her tracks. The chill of Evil and death radiated from behind her, and soft cloth brushed against green skin as Xykon passed by, turning to face her. Her face flushed, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, memories of that night lighting fire in her abdomen.

"I like that place."

He was eyeing her with a mixture of mild interest and amusement.

"Good afterlives annoy me."

"Not Good anymore. It's mine."

A low chuckle rattled his bones together and he prowled down the hall again, pulling her along with invisible strings.

"I should have guessed. The land's just as crazy as you. I should show you Pandemonium sometime."

He wrapped an arm around her, fondling her bare shoulder possessively. She trembled, resting her head against his neck. He was so cold. It felt like she was in the arms of death.

She pressed her lips against his cheek bone, failing to stifle a soft keening in her throat.

"You're such a whore." His chuckle rattled his bones again. "If I told you to get naked right here, I bet you'd do it."

"Do you want me to?"

He chuckled again, letting her kiss his jawbone. "Not yet." He tangled his phalange in her hair, pulling just enough to show her he was in control. "But maybe, if you behave."

She peppered his facial bones with kisses, trembling with pent up emotion. "I'm yours. You know that. I always will be." Her fervor increased and the trembles became more violent. "You're the only one who accepts me!"

"And don't forget it."

Xykon squeezed her shoulder hard enough to bruise, eliciting a wince, but she didn't say anything.

"I got something you should see." Xykon didn't relent his painful grip, leading her down the hall. "But don't worry your pretty little head into a stroke over it."

He shoved her into the throne room.

* * *

Right-Eye looked up from trying to pull off his runic bracelets when the door opened. He looked up, then paled considerably.

Despite his frequent glances into the mortal world, he had never been able to get a good look at his niece since she stopped taking the opiates. Her power blurred his sight into the tower too much—he was only able to see and hear enough to know what was happening, but it was never clear.

So this was the first time he actually saw his grown Tiasal.

She was hanging on Xykon's arm, but her beautiful purple eyes were fixed on him, her complexion whiter than usual. Her hair was longer and more taken care of than it had been when she was a child. It was a little more curly, and the color was rich and the strands were shiny, healthy. Puberty had definitely been kind in ways that he wasn't exactly comfortable noting, but he had to admit that he'd left a beautiful girl to find a… woman that he really, really didn't want to label how he thought she should be. He'd go with 'beautiful'. That worked.

"You…"

Her eyes flared with gold light and she bared sharp goblin teeth, coming at him. "YOU BASTARD!"

She slammed her fist right into his jaw.

He stumbled to the ground from the force, crying out and stifling oaths rising in his throat. He gingerly touched his bruising cheek before wiping a little blood from his lip, wincing at the furious burning pain there.

"Damn it. You have one hell of a right-hook."

The gold light in her eyes were overcome by a weird white light, but it didn't look right. It looked like someone had tried putting the light through shattered glass and then a prism, but pulled it out in the middle of its division. It was fractured. Broken.

He had known that his niece had unraveled over the years. He just never truly believed it.

He believed it now.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

She grabbed the neck of his shirt, forcing him in a standing position and bringing their faces close together, furious glowing eyes searing spots into his vision. "ANSWER ME!"

He tried to keep his fear out of his eye, trying to reconcile his niece with the image before him and the knowledge of what she had done. He had no doubt that if she was willing to do what she did to his brother, she'd have no problem doing any number of things to him.

He knew he should hate her. She had destroyed his brother.

He couldn't.

"Xykon brought me."

She threw him to the ground roughly, turning to look at the lich with that same furious glow in her eyes.

"Why did you bring _him_ here?"

Right-Eye winced, wiping more blood from his lip as the lich strolled forward, shrugging.

"You needed a reminder to keep your priorities straight." Xykon patted her shoulder, a little more possessiveness to the gesture than Right-Eye liked, and crossed his arms. "And family's so good at doing that, especially when you want nothing more than to bite their throats open when you see them."

Right-Eye had to stifle another wince.

"If you don't take him away then I'll kill him."

The flint in her voice was much more biting than any venom could possibly be. Venom came from hurt, anger, and bitterness. It came from someone who was hurt by someone they loved and still loved. It's what you have when there's a painful open wound that could still be stitched up.

Flint was the warped scar that came after badly treated venom. It came from years and years of it, until it was past the point that venom was hot and it just cooled down to hatred. Flint wasn't there for those that are loved. Flint was the pure, unadulterated loathing that came with pain and time. It wasn't something that could be healed.

"…" Right-Eye didn't trust himself to speak, so he just kept swiping the blood from his lip and stayed silent.

"Now, now, don't be hasty. I went through all the trouble of giving him a nice new body. You might as well make it last a little." Xykon made a motion as if he were rolling his eyes, but he had a distinct lack of eyes to roll. "I think that it would be good for you to bond with family a little."

He placed his phalange on her shoulder, his fingers matching up perfectly to a growing bruise that Right-Eye only just noticed.

"I say that you won't kill him. I like it when my seconds _listen._"

He tightened his grip hard on the bruise, making Deirdre wince and clench her teeth against the pain. The goblin stood up, ready to shove him. "Get your hands off of her."

Deirdre flared and growled at her uncle, but Xykon only let out a hollow chuckle. "You'll be saying the same thing to her, soon enough. Only replace 'her' with 'me'." He released the woman's shoulder only to possessively stroke her hair. "But regardless, you can't die. Not like this. Your body's made out of Chaos now. Either one of us can obliterate your soul at any moment, so I suggest being nice."

Right-Eye looked down at himself, frowning. He had never really stopped seeing himself as a relatively young man, even after he hit his forties. His body looked just how it had at the age he saw himself as. There was nothing perceptibly different about the body, save for the oddest feeling that he was trapped in something that didn't quite fit. It was a vague and faint thing, but it was there.

"And I'm sure that your niece won't be doing any soul destroying without okaying it with me first—she's obedient like that."

He gave a painful jerk to her hair, making her wince, but the woman looked fit to kill.

"I'll let you two get caught up. Good bye; happy reuniting."

His hand slipped to the woman's waist briefly, lingering just long enough to make Right-Eye flare furiously and shiver with disgust, before he was gone.

His anger drained when the lich left, and he had no choice but to look his niece in the eye. The hatred there made him flinch again, years-old guilt rising back into his heart.

"Tiasal…" He clicked his claws together, ears drooping, and looked for something to say. "…You've grown."

"Yes, I have." The flint was back.

Right-Eye resisted the urge to touch her face. He was pushing his luck enough just by talking. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I never meant to."

"No. You just meant for me to be an obedient little girl to help Daddy leave the Plan when you couldn't."

Another stifled wince. "I wasn't trying to use you as a pawn. When you listened in, I was just trying to convince my… _our_ family that you were worth giving a chance."

She chuckled sarcastically, her irises purple again but with weird flickering dots of light floating in them. They looked like fireflies.

"Yes. By telling them how I would be useful." Deirdre backed up, as if she couldn't stand even being near him. "You and I both know that you never loved me. I was just a tool."

"What?" Right-Eye stared in shock for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "No. That's not it. I've always loved you." He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry that you thought differently."

She slapped him across the face, forcing him to recoil. "Don't lie to me, Right-Eye."

He rubbed his burning cheek. "Don't call me Right-Eye. If you really don't want to call me Uncle, then use my given name."

"You're Right-Eye to me. Nothing more, nothing less." She turned away, stalking towards the door. "Go find yourself a room. If Xykon wants to keep you, you'll need to get a place to sleep."

"Tia, wait! I haven't seen you in years."

He touched her shoulder, wincing in preparation for another strike, and pulled her a little closer.

"Get your hands off of me."

"I just want to talk to you." He tentatively wrapped his other arm around her waist, forcing her to look at him. "I wanted to explain myself and apologize. A few years late, but I didn't exactly have a chance to do it before."

Her eyes stayed cold and unforgiving.

"You know what I did to my father."

He froze, inwardly flinching at the memory of how horribly it had affected his brother, and nodded.

"I wouldn't hesitate to do it to you too. Unless you want to have a tumble around the bed sheets, you'll let me go."

He sharply released her and backed up a few steps.

"Good idea."

She turned her back to him and left.

* * *

Terentius was carefully sewing armor into a dress when Deirdre stormed in. He looked up, frowning, and put his work down on the table. "Tia?"

A pulse of heat burst out from her, warming the room, and her eyes glowed with furious fractured light. "That _bastard_ is here! He has the _audacity_ to look me in the eyes after…!" She clenched her fists, claws digging into her flesh and bringing out streamers of blood, and gave an inarticulate roar.

"Tiasal, what's wrong?"

He came forward, worriedly taking her hands and trying to force her claws from her skin. "Baby Sister, if it's some ex-boyfriend, I'm sure Eight would be willing to help out with me beating him up…"

"Not an ex-boyfriend." Deirdre glowered at him, a causeless wind swirling around both of them. "Ex-uncle."

Terentius frowned in confusion.

"It's not important. I banished him from my life a long time ago." Deirdre glared at the ground, then slipped away from her brother. "He's nothing. Nothing but bad memories." For a moment, there was something familiar in her face. The foreign thing that defined her as a woman was gone. The fireflies weren't in her eyes anymore. There was only purple. "Bad memories, and warm, happy ones, if they're taken out of context. Smiles, sun, love, care… But I guess memories are worthless."

That touch of fireflies came back to her eyes. Terentius's brow was furrowed and he tried to see her face properly, but she was already going to her liquor cabinet, pulling out two very fancy-looking glasses and weird slotted spoons. "Go fill two shot glasses with water, please."

Terentius frowned quizzically but did as she said, pulling the shot glasses out of her cabinet and going to the bathroom.

Deirdre took out a clear bottle filled with liquid so green it was practically glowing. She poured more than should have been healthy into the glasses, pausing only to go back in her liquor cabinet and bring out two sugar cubes kept specifically for this. She dunked both in the green liquid then placed them on the spoons, putting them on top of the glasses.

She pointed her fingers at the cubes, muttering under her breath, and they burst into blue flames.

She grasped the handles of the spoons and dropped the cubes into the glasses. The liquid within flared with blue.

"By the elven gods!"

Deirdre looked back at her shocked brother, taking the full shot glasses from him. "It makes the drink stronger." She poured the water out in the fiery glasses, dousing the flames.

"…Is that what I think it is?"

"I like spirits, Big Brother. Have some."

She grasped one of the glasses, downing more than any sane drinker would take in one gulp, and sat on her bed. Her brother was still frowning worriedly when he carefully took his own glass and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her bare shoulders. It was uncomfortable and more than a little hot that her dress was strapless and he could see her cleavage, but he immediately scolded himself viciously. This was his _sister._

"Baby Sister, who's the guy who got you so worked up?"

She leaned against him, forcing him to partially lie down with her head at his shoulder, her free hand stroking his clothed chest. "Nobody. That's his name. Nobody."

Terentius tentatively took a sip of his drink, wincing at the punch behind it, and trying to ignore the compromising position he was in. "If you're not going to be honest with me, Tiasal, I can't keep this up. I can't be a good brother if I don't know how to help."

He ran his hand through her hair, savoring the softness. He only had vague memories of his Other Parent at this point, but one thing that stayed in mind was her beautiful bright hair and eyes. That was one thing that lived on in his baby sister.

"…"

"Please be honest with me."

Deirdre looked up at his face, playing her fingers across his chest and finishing her drink. "Daddy wasn't an only child. All of his siblings were dead by the time I was born, but that didn't stop his youngest brother."

She shook her head, expression dark, and she reached over her brother to the bedside table, opening the drawer and taking out two cigarettes. "I don't like talking about him."

Terentius accepted one of the rolls and Deirdre lit them both with just her fingers. "Did he treat you nicely?"

"I thought so." She put aside the empty glass. She had taken that whole thing in less than two minutes—she anticipated the kick it'd give as soon as it hit her blood. She just wanted to forget the man she had left in the throne room. Forget how nice his touch felt, forget the gentle kindness he used to show her, forget the little part of her that yearned to run back and huddle in his arms like a little girl again, to let him apologize and forgive him… and forget the aching pain the scars he had left gave her. "But then I found out that he was using me. He thought I was _disgusting._" She sucked the cigarette in her mouth, swallowing as much as she could, and clutched her face in her palm, as if she were hiding it. Hate boiled in her stomach. Hate for her whore of a mother, her bastard of a father, her manipulative uncle, and most of all, hate for her own horrible mixed ancestry burned her throat, making her eyes sting hard.

"You're not disgusting, Baby Sister."

_Lies._

"If someone had asked me before I met you, I would have thought that a half-elf, half-goblin would look weird. Now I know that it doesn't." His voice was so gentle. So loving. He was trying to trick her. Trick her just like _Right-Eye._ "You were one of the most beautiful little girls I've ever seen, and now you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen." He kissed her hair. So loving. So very, very loving.

_He's trying to trick you! PUNISH HIM!_

"Other Parent and… and Step Parent loved each other very much. And I'm sure they loved you very much too. No one who's as loveable as you is disgusting, you Oompa Loompa." He sipped his drink carefully and set it aside, taking another drag and caressing his sister's head. "And I'll beat up Step Uncle if you want me to. The offer's always on the table."

_He's trying to trick you. They're all trying to trick you._

Deirdre chuckled softly, rolling a little so she was on top of him, big firefly-ridden eyes fixed on her brother's and her breasts pressing hard against his chest. He took a sharp breath of air but struggled to keep his expression neutral. She didn't need that sound to know what she was doing. She was feeling it happen under her.

He took a nervous drag. "W-we really n-need to discuss what you wear to bed. I-it makes me a little uncomfortable."

"I'm glad you sleep with me, Big Brother. The nightmares aren't so bad when you're here." She reached up and played with his hair, the edge of her palm brushing his ears and making him shudder. "They were never bad when Daddy was with me, either."

"T-Tiasal, I love you, b-but we need to t-talk about boundaries…"

_Punish him._

"You don't really want boundaries, do you?" She smiled, still running her fingers through his hair and resting her head on his chest, smiling.

The blood was rushing to his face. His ears were twitching wildly. The shadows pulled themselves off the wall, whispering to her, touching her, glaring and glimmering and Snow watched with her dead baby clutched to her breast at the windowsill—

"Hey, Moonstruck."

Tsukiko pushed the door open, arching her eyebrow when she saw them tangled on the bed. "I really don't want to know what you were doing."

Deirdre scowled, standing up from the bed, and Terentius let out a relieved breath, blood still pounding in his ears.

"Yes, Tsukiko?"

"Think fast."

She tossed something purple across the room. Deirdre caught it easily.

"Use it. I don't want to know what it says, which is why I'm not doing the test myself. Don't tell me how it turns out, but if it's positive, it's best for everyone involved for you to toss yourself down a few flights of stairs."

Deirdre looked down at the thing she caught curiously. Terentius wasn't in a position to see what it was, so he just nervously sucked on his cigarette.

"And stop drinking and smoking."

"Doesn't this need to be taken after a missed period?"

Terentius stiffened, the tips of his ears getting red. He knew what they were talking about.

"It's been two weeks. I casted a spell so it'll be more sensitive and accurate. If you miscarry naturally, great, and if you don't, at least you know what's going on. If it's negative, that's the best of both worlds. Now I'm leaving because I want to pay as little attention to this as possible."

She promptly turned around, hands straying to her ears as if that alone would keep the information around her from reaching her brain, and left.

"Wait, who the hell—"

"You don't want to finish that question, Big Brother." Deirdre looked around at him, the pregnancy test clutched in her hands. "Go work on your sewing. Alyad doesn't like people knowing that she is a general so she wears dresses, but she needs to have them armored. I'll be a moment."

She turned and left.

Snow, invisible to the shocked elf left behind, sighed and started trying to push her baby's mouth to her teat. "Come on. Please? I don't want you to starve…"


	4. Consequences of Mistakes

Part IV

Liberī Diabolī

* * *

Her breasts were barely staying in her slip, the outline of her nipple pronounced in the moonlight. Her even breathing rushed against his ear, setting the sensitive nerves in there in ecstatic vibrations. Her slip had hiked up in her sleep, up to her flat abdomen, revealing her thighs and a thong.

Her legs were wrapped around him again, and he was actually starting to ache from the warmth down in his gut. It had been a while since he had been so close to a woman.

A brown hand was resting on her hip, lightly stroking the band of her thong. There was nothing sexual about that, he tried to reason. He was her brother. He'd seen her naked plenty of times, and had even touched those kinds of places on her before when she had gotten that horrible case of poison ivy as a kid and she didn't know how to properly apply the medicine she was supposed to put on the rash. There was nothing sexual about putting the medicine on her then, and there was nothing sexual about him affectionately stroking her now. _Affectionately._ It was only _affection._

Why was he even thinking about sexuality? She wasn't sexual to him. It wasn't like he was even noticing how good it felt when she rocked her hips against his. It wasn't like he peeked when she was pulling on those tiny lingerie-like nightgowns. It wasn't like the urge to rub himself against her was burning like a ball of molten lead in his abdomen.

It wasn't like any of that even occurred to him. He was her brother. He didn't see her as a sexual being.

He ran his thumb over her thong band, feeling the light rise and fall her hip bone made. There was a burning urge in his stomach to dip his hand lower, but he resisted it, all but chanting a mantra: This was his sister. He didn't think about her like that.

The gave a soft whimper of agony, nestling his face against his sleeping sister's hair. Every night, he fought this same fight he couldn't stand to acknowledge. He probably hadn't had more than a handful of hours of sleep each night since she took him from that cell.

She smelled so good… it was sweet, like herbs and the ocean-side wind, but had a dangerous edge and a smoky quality it didn't have when she was a kid. It was like really good exotic alcohol.

He wondered what she tasted like.

Another shudder rumbled through his body, something jerking in disgust within, but that was drowned out by the increasingly intense burning in his abdomen.

Her face creased a little, disturbed by the nightmares he tried so desperately to protect her from, and she shifted so she was clinging to him tighter, her head now resting at his chest and her hips moving away from his, giving him some blessed relief from the intensity in his gut before he took another breath of that intoxicating smell.

"I'm sorry, Daddy…"

The words were murmured so softly he barely understood them, but he was having difficulty paying attention to that with the scent sticking to him like spider webs. It felt like he had been smoking nonstop with the increasing fuzziness in his head. The intensity was coming back, making him bite his lip uncomfortably before he slipped his hand to her thigh, stroking it gently.

He was her brother. He didn't consider her a sexual being. But… but if he did, it wasn't like it would be _that_ wrong. They weren't _blood_ siblings. He and Octavius were adopted. After all… she was… she was not…

He gave a soft whimper and slipped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. His baby sister. _His_ baby sister. She was his sister!

But… he had to relieve the awful intensity somehow. How could he protect her if his mind was on… was on… how he didn't think of her as a sexual being?

At the thought of peace from this burning, comfort coursed through him, giving him a rush that no drug had given him before.

He would just relieve it. There was no harm done if she didn't wake up, and once that was over, he could take better care of her.

And it wasn't like it was really _her_ that was doing this. It was just hormones. He didn't notice how round and perky her breasts were or how curvy her hips had gotten. He didn't care about the softness of her skin and how fantastically warm it was. He didn't think anything of it when she practically sat in his lap, purred in his ears, and asked him to sleep snuggled with her while she wore nearly nothing. It wasn't _him_, and it most certainly wasn't _her._

He wasn't like that. And she was his little Tiasal. Tiasal couldn't be blamed for any of this.

Oblivious to the little white-haired girl cradling a newborn at the windowsill, he started to stroke his sister's thigh again, savoring the softness of her skin, and finally touched what had been bothering him on and off since he saw his sister again.

The woman's breathing hitched briefly before evening out again. He didn't notice.

Guilt, shame, and disgust prickled his brain, but it was swept from his mind, finally being drowned out by the intensity.

It didn't take long before he had to jerk his hand away, nearly overwhelmed, and scurry to the bathroom to have a clean finish. All evidence of the disgusting act was removed.

Contrary to his desperate hope that he'd feel better afterwards, he didn't.

Instead, he could only cry.

* * *

Deirdre looked up at the towering structures around her, bare skeletons of rust without so much as ivy coiling around them to hint at life. Twisted pieces of metal and broken glass stuck out of the dirt like the planet's teeth trying to chew her up, and the bones of buildings stabbed into the dark, swirling sky, irritating the perpetual storm brewing, but the worst part was that she couldn't feel the electricity crackling. This world was dead in every sense of the word.

She picked her way through the maze of rusted steel. The dirt was red and dry, cracking where the metal and glass peeked out, and the debris cut deep into her feet, spreading white and red all over the broken earth.

There were the smallest sounds, the slightest silhouettes of the past, imprinted on this place, all jumbled together. Humans, but not as she knew them, walked and danced and ran and screamed and cried across the lifeless landscape. Broken hopes and dreams were lost under the rusted exterior of the skeletons. Fear had long since left to start the storm above, leaving nothing but cold. Hope was dead.

Deirdre trudged past, letting the glass and metal bite her feet, leaving bloody remainders where each step landed. The cries from thousands of years ago were still barely audible, the betrayal barely tangible, the fury barely there anymore… Silhouette after silhouette walked past, murmurs in languages long lost falling on uncomprehending ears.

These were the people betrayed by their gods. She could feel whispers of departed divinity telling her the stories behind these skeletons, the last remainders of a promising civilization. The gods were petty and callous beings, even those that had begun as mortals. No one could remember how it truly felt to be mortal once they crossed that threshold into divinity. Because of jealousy and anger, they destroyed their children, their creations, and banished their brothers and sisters to Khaos.

Now there was nothing left.

The spirits and faeries had fled to the dead arms of their lord. The humans had spread out to their different ways in search of survival. The gods had either accepted their fate and gone to sleep quietly or raged and manipulated their children in the cruelest way to ensure immortality, but in the end, it all ended the same way.

Only three left in this place.

Deirdre walked across the land until she finally saw who she knew to be there. Three old women sitting together on stools with navy cloaks hanging on their bony bodies between two giant rusty carcasses. One had a distaff without wool on it lying in her lap and a spindle without string in front of her. Another had a measuring rod without anything to use it on. The last had a long, knotty, holey, beautiful and cherished tapestry in her lap, one last string to be weaved in.

"It's been a very long time," the weaver said, voice older than the hills and yet still fresh and healthy. A pair of big black shears were lying against the foot of her stool, not even reflecting light. There was something very foreboding about those dark blades. "It's nice to see that we'll finally get some rest."

"Rest?" Deirdre warily edged towards the women, instinct screaming at the menacing aura they had around them.

"You're one of the containers of Khaos. Khaos cannot be contained for long." The wool spinner was staring at her distaff with a slightly confused expression, as if she hadn't the slightest clue what to do now that it didn't have anymore wool on it. The woman next to her was giving a similar look to her rod, experimentally rolling it in her hands, exploring what it was like to not be measuring. "Once Khaos is released once more, we won't be needed anymore. We won't Be."

The weaver quietly knotted the string a little prematurely, a length of loose color hanging with misplaced hope across the beautiful design, long and complicated, impossible to make sense of without years and years of time.

"I believe that all of this has gone on long enough."

She picked up her shears, snipping their rusted, rickety blades together, and cutting that last loose thread. It fluttered to the ground.

Deirdre felt something within her snap and she became conscious of something coming for her.

"What's going to happen?"

The old woman put aside the tapestry, looking up at her, eyes big holes of everything. "The Moirai don't reveal these things." She put aside her shears with a tone of finality. "Our jobs are finished."

* * *

"She tore you a new one."

"Bastard. Burn in hell." The goblin looked ready to kill the gloating lich, but he knew better than to try. He settled with leaning against the wall of the throne room, nursing his bruised and bloody face while sending dirty looks towards the sorcerer.

"I'll never get tired of this, I swear. I'm wondering if she's going to mutilate you or rape you first. Necromancer Chick and I have a bet going on."

He paled a little, sending a glare at Xykon, snarling as the lich got comfortable on the throne. "You corrupted her. She can get better."

"You wish."

"Xykon!"

Deirdre swept in, looking completely frazzled. Right-Eye jumped in surprise, needing only one look at the honest fear in her face before a fierce fatherly instinct flared in his chest. But of course she didn't go to him. She knelt in front of the lich, huddling against his lap like a scared little girl running to her father. Xykon looked down at her curiously, reaching out and stroking her hair possessively. Right-Eye frowned in worry, making a motion to go to her, then cutting it short. He would probably only make her more upset if he brought attention to himself.

"Yeah?"

Deirdre swallowed, her eyes big and frightened. "I… Tsukiko gave me a test and I…" her voice dropped, "I'm pregnant."

"Whoa, what?" Right-Eye's jaw dropped and he promptly forgot that the smart thing was to keep his mouth shut. "What?"

"It's Reddy's, right?" Xykon was remarkably nonchalant about it, continuing to play a little with the purple curls.

She nodded.

Right-Eye's voice died in his throat. He felt nauseous again.

"Stand up for a second. I don't see why you're so upset about it. That's what you get for being a whore and not bothering with protection."

He stood up, and Deirdre obediently copied him, huddling close but not daring to cling to him as she obviously wanted to.

The lich pushed her away for a moment, looking her up and down, and slammed his fist in her stomach.

"TIA!"

She doubled over and fell to the ground with a choked cry. Right-Eye was there in a moment, touching her arm, checking to see if she was okay.

"You see? No problem."

Xykon stepped over them. "When you get up, go check the plane of air. I think that rebels are congregating there."

Right-Eye glared at him viciously, tightening his grip on his niece's arm. "You fucking heartless BASTARD!"

"Language. You're a terrible example for your niece." Xykon left without a backwards glance.

Right-Eye looked down at Deirdre, conflicted. A large part of him was disgusted and wanted to leave as well. She wasn't Tiasal anymore. She wasn't the little girl he'd loved and cherished years ago. She was the devil that had raped his brother, destroying him completely, and who was now the incubator of a… a _monster!_

But she was his niece. The skin under his hand was the skin that he had spent years wishing he could touch but couldn't. And… well, he didn't know much about mental illness, but he knew that she had a bad one and he couldn't hold her completely responsible for the horrible things she had done. She was insane.

And he was the one who drove her there.

She had trusted him and he broke her heart.

"Leave me," she choked out, curling up in a tight fetal position and hiding her face, some crack of sense making it to the surface and making her ashamed. "It's disgusting. I know you hate me. Leave."

Right-Eye shook his head sadly, stroking her hair. He let the decision rest. He made his choice a long time ago. "I promise that I'll never leave you again."

Deirdre's shoulders started to shake with soft sobs. Her uncle stayed with her, tired and glad that she couldn't see his eye. If she could, she would have seen the conflict in there. She would have seen the disgust.

And her illness wouldn't let her see the love mixed in as well.

"I'm here. Really here, this time. I can hold you." He kept stroking her hair, twining his fingers in the strands. He remembered how much she loved having her hair touched as a child, and how much he regretted not being able to do it for her. She was leaning into the touches. Some things never changed. "Do you need me to get the Theurge?"

She shook her head, wincing in pain. "I'll go when it stops hurting."

He was still running his fingers through her hair. He knew he was playing with fire. Deirdre was unpredictable and would make him regret his tenderness.

But all he saw when he looked at her was that heartbroken look in Tiasal's eyes when she looked into the afterlife and faced her family for the first and last time.

He couldn't stand seeing that look again.

"Alright. I'll take you when you're ready."

* * *

"I told you not to tell me what it said!" Tsukiko groaned, rubbing her face. "That's why I gave you the damn pregnancy test and didn't check myself!"

Right-Eye gave a fierce glare, but he wasn't touching Deirdre anymore. He had backed away a little from the bed she was sitting on, far enough to retain a sense of safety, but he didn't leave, no matter how frightened he was. "Xykon punched her in the stomach. Is she still… you know?"

"Unless it was strong enough to shockwave, yes. Xykon has no idea how to make a woman miscarry." She rubbed her temples, pacing the room. "Twelve Gods… alright, this is really, really grossing me out. If you want to keep drinking, drink a lot and hope you miscarry, 'cuz if the little monstrosity comes out with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, I'm drowning it before you wake up. Or I'll make you abort with a wire hanger."

"Where the hell is your professionalism?" Right-Eye snapped even though he knew her disgust was mirrored in his face. "She's your patient! Act like it!"

"Seriously, I know that you and the rest of the family won't face facts, but I have. She's a monster. Whatever she used to be is irrelevant." Tsukiko huffed, giving a condescending glower to the weirdly blank-faced sorcerer sitting on the bed. "Act like it."

Right-Eye took a breath to speak, even though he didn't know what he'd say.

"The girl is the one you should be concerned about, Right-Eye. You won't be so good at deceiving her."

He paused, paling a little, and looked down at Deirdre, only to see that the edge of her irises around the ragged pupils were bleached Chaotic white. "She'll know that you and her father and uncles and family will never love her. She'll know _I'll_ never love her. She'll know it before I did." Deirdre looked past him at something only she could see. "She and her siblings won't be as docile as I once was."

"Wait, what?"

Tsukiko instinctively looked around the room to see what the woman was talking about, then she remembered who the woman was.

"Tiasal, I think you need to—"

"Get out."

Deirdre stood up from the bed, fireflies dancing in her eyes. Right-Eye jerked, then tentatively reached out. "Tiasal, you—"

"GET OUT!"

She lashed out with her claws, ripping into his cheek before raising her arm to strike Tsukiko, who scrambled out before the hand could fall.

"GET OUT OR I'LL BLIND YOUR OTHER EYE!"

Right-Eye clutched his cheek and hesitated for a moment before his logic kicked in and he ran out.

Droplets of his blood had spattered on the ground. They sank into the carpet, leaving red stains, but Deirdre's eyes weren't there.

The shadows were shifting, grinning their toothy grins and whispering things only she would understand, pulling her hair and touching her body.

Even then, she didn't pay them attention.

A little girl was standing in front of the door. She looked just like the other little girl that had been terrorizing Deirdre. Maybe they were one in the same—she wouldn't have known the difference.

But there was a difference. One difference. This little girl's eyes were gold. Gold with flecks of fireflies.

The little girl stared up at her, expressionless, her hair falling in loose vines around her face. Deirdre raised her hand to swipe the monster out of existence, but she knew she couldn't. They were the same. They were both hated. They were both _disgusting_. And they both would never be loved.

She felt eyes on them. There were more children. More hateful, disgusting children.

They were all there. The children of her brothers, her cousin, her uncle, men who she couldn't even name yet… all there, staring with firefly-stricken eyes.

"You're the one who will bring them into being."

Deirdre looked down at the bed, eyes wide as they fell on Snow, cradling her newborn still. Her hair was whiter than before and her eyes were wrong, but she paid no mind to the shadows clutching her.

"You owe them. If you're not going to give them love, you have to give them something."

The gold-eyed girl's gaze seemed judgmental now. Demanding. Her body changed, aging, until it was Deirdre's, only different in a thousand subtle ways and one big one.

The gold eyes looked so big on her… So much like Daddy.

All the children were adults now. Deirdre recoiled, her heart pounding in her ears. She was surrounded. Big eyes, some gold, some violet, some molten orange, some blue, were digging into her, trying to get something that wasn't there, gleeful in their torture yet worshipful in their invisible touches on her body, pulling out everything she had.

"So what are you going to give them?"

Would she be able to give them love?

No, she wouldn't give them love. At least, not the sort of love children needed. She wasn't capable of that.

But she was capable of one thing.

"I'll give them revenge."

The gold-eyed monster lowered her face until it looked at the ground, curly purple hair falling to her breasts, and the hem of her modest gown caught on fire.

"Let's hope you get that far, Mother."

Flames spread across the room, consuming all the children and searing Deirdre's face. She huddled in a ball, clenching her fists in her hair as it was all blackened by hellfire.

Snow sighed softly, shaking her head in sympathy and disappearing again.

* * *

"You're distracted, little one. Why?"

Deirdre made her move on the Go board without thinking about it. Now the goblin was the one holding the little girl, but his eyes were big with fear and he was drawing away as far as possible from Deirdre. The Azurian woman was much more direct, trying to hide the disgust in her eyes as she regarded her.

They were holding hands, the woman gently rubbing her thumb against the goblin's knuckle. She saw the potential beginning of another monster like herself.

Their selfishness astounded.

"No reason."

O-Chul arched an eyebrow before looking back at the board and putting down his piece.

"If you're troubled, it is usually easier to tell someone."

"I don't think you'd be able to help."

"Maybe not help, but listen."

Deirdre put down her piece, ignoring the goblin, woman, and child in the cage. The little girl wasn't saying anything. Deirdre hadn't even seen her eyes, so she couldn't be quite sure which little girl it was.

"I'm pregnant."

O-Chul looked surprised briefly before he smoothed his expression again, looking her over carefully.

"Is the father willing to help you?"

"The father is dead."

"I see." O-Chul put down his own piece, his eyes still unwavering on her. "How far are you?"

"It won't naturally miscarry."

"How do you know?"

"I know."

O-Chul paused, then sidled next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're stronger than you think, little one. In the end, I have faith that you will make the right choice."

She didn't know what he meant.

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

* * *

"Baby Sister? Are you okay?"

Deirdre uncurled from her ball, looking up at Terentius with an expression impossible to read.

"Are you pregnant?"

He sat down beside her, the picture of a concerned brother despite the haunted look deep in his eyes, and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Because I'll be here for you if you are. I won't judge."

"You won't judge because the child is a bastard like me?"

"Don't call yourself that." He frowned, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "But I won't. I mean, a child out of wedlock? Not exactly uncommon anymore." He gave a tentative smile, trying to nudge one out of his sister. "It's silly to pretend it is. I'll help in any way I can."

Her eyes were still impossible to read. There weren't fireflies, but it looked like the irises had been bleached out in some places, leaving a ragged white ring with multicolor flecks around her pupil. It was unsettling.

"It was positive."

Deirdre stood up from the bed, the remains of the fire still making the floor hot, and walked to the dresser. Her brother copied her, standing and making a motion to follow, but he stopped himself. "But I'm not concerned now. What happens will happen."

She started to undo the zippers on her dress, making Terentius blush and turn away. She glanced over at him, noticing how his hands kept on clenching and his ears kept twitching. He wanted to look. He wanted to see her.

She let her dress fall. She heard her brother's breathing hitch.

"I, ah, I mean, aren't you scared?"

"What happens will happen."

She pulled on a babydoll with sheer white transparent cloth falling like water from solid white cups. She didn't bother with panties.

"I, uh, I also, um, wanted to talk to you about—"

"About what?" Deirdre sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. Her brother looked down, blood immediately rushing to his face and his breath getting caught in his throat.

"Uh…"

"Take a seat, will you? You're tense."

"I, uh, Baby Sister, you really…" He sat down beside her, staring at her body before tentatively resting a faux innocent hand on her bare thigh, then he jerked it back, shaking his head. He wanted her. She could see his body reacting to it. "You really can't wear stuff like that to bed! It's lingerie!"

"Many people wear lingerie to bed," Deirdre said, lying back on the bed. "It's comfortable."

"N-not for me. I mean, really, I'm your brother. I don't want to see your… uh, your…"

"Breasts?"

"Yeah, those, all night."

She looked up at the ceiling, tracing the outline of the separate blocks of stone with her gaze. "I heard you touching yourself last night."

He froze.

"You thought I was sleeping. You kept on whimpering and stroking my thigh while you did it."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "N-no, I…"

"When you were about to finish, you went to the bathroom so I wouldn't know in the morning." She shifted into a more comfortable position. "Don't deny it."

"I… I…" The breath caught in his throat, cutting off his stutters for a moment. He whimpered softly and buried his face in his hands, the tips of his ears bright red. "I'm so _sorry!_"

He sounded so incredibly anguished that any saner person would have taken pity. Deirdre only saw lies.

"I couldn't stop! You… you just… I'm _sorry,_ Baby Sister!"

"You don't like it. Wanting to touch yourself to me. Do you?"

He hugged himself and curled in a ball, tears streaming down his cheeks, his voice getting wobbly. "I… I hate myself for it."

"That's right. It's shameful, isn't it?" She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and leaned against him so her lips were a breath away from his ear. "But I don't mind. I don't mind at all."

"P-please don't…"

Deirdre licked his ear gently, eliciting a shudder and a low groan. "No, no, no, please, Little Sister, I won't be able to stop myself…"

"Don't resist. We're both adults, aren't we?"

"You're my sister!" He tried to jerk away, but her grip was strong and she started mouthing his ear, making him shudder and moan again, slowly destroying his willpower. "Stop it, please…!"

"Do you really want me to stop? Really?"

He was shaking. She ran her tongue up the length of his earlobe and cupped his cheek in one hand, keeping him from turning away.

"…I… I don't want… Please stop. You're my little sister, I can't… can't…"

"Tell me that you want me to stop."

He rocked a little in place, his ear twitching, and he leaned a little into her touches, blood rushing downwards.

"I… I… don't want you to stop."

She nipped his ear and straddled his hips. Truth. She had to punish him for trying to trick her.

"But please, please stop. I can't… I don't want… it's just so _wrong_!"

"You can touch my breasts if you want."

He was so tense against her. She kept on lavishing attention on his ear. She could feel the blood pumping through it, pulsing against her lips.

"I…"

"I've seen how you look at them." She raised his shirt just enough for her to run her hands against his abs. "Go on. Touch them."

"…"

He whimpered softly in anguish, then slipped his hands under her thin clothing, reaching up and stroking her breasts gently.

"You want me, don't you?"

He whimpered again, squeezing his eyes shut, tears still falling, but he couldn't stop his groans. "Y-yes."

"For how long?"

Red hands fondled her heatedly, but they never lost their gentleness. "I don't know."

Deirdre let out a low chuckle, nibbling his ear again, purring. "You may hate yourself now, Big Brother, but you'll warm up to the idea."

"I feel like I'm making you dirty. You're not dirty, Baby Sister."

"I have been for a while," she whispered softly in his ear, nuzzling the side of his head. "But you know you want it. So let it happen. We'll go to hell together."

He sobbed softly before groaning and wrapping an arm around her waist, making her press closer. "I'm sorry, Tiasal."

He didn't say anything else that night.

* * *

Right-Eye hated this place.

He kept walking down the halls, moving to allow servant children past only to realize that they could just walk through him. They all had blood between their legs, and more than a few had smeared remnants of white on their mouths and bodies.

He shuddered. Ghosts only appeared as they saw themselves. If the children saw themselves like that…

He should have tried to help them.

With another disgusted jerk, he finally escaped by walking into the next room, his cheek finally stopping its bleeding. It was a bedroom. Obviously unused, as a layer of dust was on everything.

By the Dark One, what had he gotten himself into?

He sat on the dusty bed and let out a groan. He was glad to be away from the ghost children. With every white-stained face and red-stained pair of pants, he was reminded that Tiasal had been one of them. How many times had she done things for that bastard without her uncle around to soothe her while she was high and frightened?

_"YOU HUMAN BASTARD!"_

If he had pushed back his own trauma and horror and stayed by her when that human made her do things, would she have turned out differently? How far had he gone? How often did he do things? If he made her touch him, had he ever touched her? Made her take her clothes off so he could satisfy his sick, sick urges?

He gave a soft queasy moan and rested his head on his knees, hugging his stomach. He didn't want to think about that. He really didn't.

But it felt like he owed it to her.

_"Love you too, Uncle."_

Love you too, Uncle… That had been the last time she had called him Uncle. The last time she told him she loved him. The last time since today he had told her he loved _her._ He could have tried harder to be there. In all those years, she had to have had her banishment falter more often than just when she was on opiates.

What he wouldn't give for her to say that just one more time. His little Tiasal… he remembered finding her that one day before she drowned, then soothing her when she saw that she was covered in leeches. She had always been a quiet little girl, but so inquisitive. He had savored the few times she spoke and answered as truthfully as he dared when she asked questions—he had figured out early on that honesty encouraged her to talk more—and he remembered wanting to be able to touch her so much that it hurt. He had wanted to be able to help her up those trees she loved to climb, to cradle her when she had been teased by her brothers or when she felt bad about her parents, to stroke her hair and give her a kiss on the nose when he just felt affectionate… To tell the truth, he hadn't felt that attached to a child since his own sons and daughter. She was his.

_ "Never. Never again. Don't appear to me again, Right-Eye. My family has used me. Xykon is the only one who has been honest. I won't be fooled again."_

His heart was aching.

He would let himself be murdered a thousand times over if it meant he could undo the hurt he had dealt to his niece all those years ago.

But that wasn't possible.

Right-Eye took a deep breath, trying to push the ache away so he could think.

He couldn't treat Deirdre like Tiasal. She wasn't Tiasal. His Tiasal was somewhere deeper inside. At the same time, he couldn't show her the hate that bubbled in his stomach, because he would hurt Tiasal with it more than Deirdre.

He felt like his gut was in a vice. This was all his fault.

He had no idea what she was talking about with the new child, but he had a sinking feeling that it had been more than just mad ravings. During her childhood, he had never noticed it, but it was odd how she was able to see him as a ghost without divine or arcane intervention. And she would often find out about things there was no way she could have known, like how their village was massacred by the Sapphire Guard. That, and the fact she was able to use astral projection that one day all those years ago (he shuddered) hinted that she was talented in Divination.

But by the Dark One, he prayed that she was wrong this time. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look past the ancestry of this child if it were ever born.

"Thinking about how we're all screwed?"

He looked up from the bed.

The woman with the dragon tattoo was leaning against the doorway, her mismatched eyes flashing out of sync with one another. An odd little girl stepped in beside her. Her nightdress was long and, unlike all the other children, there wasn't a speck of blood reddening the pure white of it and there wasn't even a strand of chalky residue marring her face or clothes. Her hair was white too, but that couldn't be right. She was a young human. It must have been platinum blond.

Cradled in her arms, a stillborn baby was resting. Her haunting gray eyes weren't on that, though. They were on him.

"I…" He tore his eyes away from the ghost. "What do you want?"

He tensed up, expression darkening at the woman. None of this would have happened if she hadn't taken Tiasal away. None of it.

If she was aware of the look she was receiving, she didn't show it. "I figured you'd be feeling a little more cooperative than everyone else." She absently fiddled with the tip of her braid, her hair looking grayer than before. The little girl cradled her baby and climbed on the foot of the bed, sitting so her legs were swinging off the side.

"Why the hell would I want to help you?" Right-Eye stood up, glaring, and crossed his arms. "If it wasn't for you, this wouldn't have happened."

"I could say 'right back atcha', but I'm too old to be playing these games anymore." Tsukiko made a sharp waving motion with her hand, her expression not quite forming a glare but definitely not smiling. "I'm done with waiting. Waiting for Xykon, waiting for the kid to croak, waiting for Redcloak to fix her, waiting for recognition… it's over. I'm going to actually _do_ something now, and if you have an ounce of love left in you for that little incestuous monstrosity, you're going to help me."

"Whatever you're planning, I'm out. I left petty vengeance and grudges behind a long time ago. I'm not going to help you with yours." He touched the eye patch over his left eye for a moment before tracing the long scar that ran away from it. The ghost girl looked up at him, smiling serenely, and cradled her baby closer.

"Petty vengeance, yeah. But petty vengeance that could save your niece."

He froze.

"I thought I'd get your attention that way."

Tsukiko sat on the bed near him, rubbing her eyes, bringing attention to the dark circles under them. She was blind to the little girl scooching to the side to make room while she stuck a hand in her pocket, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid with a little medicine measuring cup on top of the cap. "This is the key to it, of course. I'm trusting you to not rat me out."

"What is that?" Right-Eye sat next to her, awkwardly trying to avoid sitting on the ghost child.

"Medicine. Antipsychotic medicine, actually. It's tasteless and clear, so it's easy to slip to people." She shook it gently, letting it swirl in a tiny whirlpool. "I think you know where I'm going with this."

Right-Eye drew away, staring at the bottle warily, but he couldn't deny the strong desire to grab it. "I don't know if that's the truth, and even if it is, it's dangerous to give that kind of stuff to a pregnant woman who doesn't know she's taking it. What could it do to her if she drinks? If she accidentally takes too much or too little? What about the baby?"

"Oh you're not about to worry about the fetus right now, are you? Whatever this stuff does to it, it's nothing compared to the hell it already has to live through if it doesn't miscarry naturally. It'd probably be a blessing if the meds made her miscarry or killed the baby when it was born."

Right-Eye looked away, disgusted with the cavalier attitude the woman had towards the unborn, yet unable to disagree.

"And I know she's taking it. If she OD's or mixes it up with alcohol, I can handle it."

He didn't want to tell her how much he wanted to give his niece that medicine. He tried reminding himself that the Theurge could be lying about what it was or it could even kill Tiasal, but they faded. If he had been his big brother, he never would have agreed to it without months of verification and testing.

But he wasn't his brother.

"…I…"

The little girl looked at him expectantly.

"Why are you telling me this? I can't help you. She won't let me near anything she's drinking or eating. You should be talking to her brothers—her half-brothers are here too, right?"

Tsukiko shook her head, frowning. "One of them is in the dungeon. The other's sleeping with her."

"What?" His gaze snapped back to the Theurge.

"I walked in on them on the bed."

A distinctly nauseous feeling started in his stomach. "A-are you sure they were doing something? I used to watch over them when they were kids. Her brothers got rowdy sometimes, but I can't imagine that either of them would…"

"She was on top of him and it looked like she was pretty interested in taking some clothes off. Whether or not they've actually done something yet is up for debate since he looked like how guys get when they're scared of whatever sex they're about to get. Not like he's used to it. But they're definitely going to start something." She shook her head again and swished the bottle, her eyes glowing softly, the lighter blue eye shining brighter than the other. "I can't trust him to keep an objective view."

"And you think you can trust me?"

"So far, it looks like you're the only one who has the good sense to differentiate between the brat and the psycho." Tsukiko stood up again, pacing and sighing at the same time. "I was hoping that Reddy would figure it out and do something, but I was too bitter towards both of them to actually help. Now she's done a worse thing to him than I ever could, and making her sane enough to realize what she's done is the cruelest thing I can do to her. There's no excuse to not do anything now." She looked at Right-Eye, a bitter, twisted fire in her eyes. It wasn't the sort of fire Right-Eye had seen in his unofficial sister during the few occasions he curiously came down to observe her. It was cold fire. It wasn't made of spirit or passion or bravery—just hate. "I'm not in this to help you or her. I'm in this to make both of them—Xykon _and_ the brat—pay. I'm tired of being strung along. And the reason you'll go along with it is you'd be able to fix her."

She let out a cold chuckle. "And even if you're not interested in helping her anymore, you'd be saving yourself from Reddy's fate."

"Don't bring that up."

Right-Eye physically recoiled from the topic, standing up and walking across the room to be as far away from her as possible. "You and Xykon making jokes about it and throwing it out there like it's just one big game… you have no idea what it did to him."

"You're confusing not knowing with not caring."

The woman with the dragon tattoo smirked, letting the liquid swirl again. She was completely unconcerned by the low growling starting to emanate from the goblin's chest.

"Her brother makes her food. He's not as paranoid as her. I can just tell him this stuff is prenatal vitamins she's too crazy to trust, so that takes care of her doses for a few days. Once she starts getting side effects—and this crap's the strong stuff, so she's going to be getting nasty ones—he'll probably get scared she's having an allergic reaction or something and stop giving it to her. Then it'll be up to you to make sure she gets it."

"Why me?" Right-Eye shook his head, looking at the little girl on the bed guiltily. Her expression remained as serene and unassuming as ever, but nonetheless, she was the symbol of what he'd done wrong. She wouldn't be dead if he had only tried harder. Tiasal wouldn't be insane. His brother wouldn't be broken. Xykon wouldn't have the Snarl. Hell, maybe even Vaarsuvius would be alive and finally out of that sapphire.

The thought of Vaarsuvius, trapped in the necklace around her daughter's neck, witnessing everything that Deirdre has done in her madness, made him shudder.

"She hates you, but that won't keep her away for long. It's just like Reddy. Her hate attracts her to people. She hates you, so she wants to fuck you."

The nausea was back.

"If you play your cards right, she'll think she's in control and won't be so paranoid. You'll have chances to get to her food and drink and stuff. By the time her brother chickens out, you'll be able to take the reins."

"I don't think that's how it works." Right-Eye had to sit down again. He was feeling sick.

"Once you sleep with her, she'll think you're her bitch."

He jerked a little, trying to keep the ill feeling from rising into his throat. "Sleep with her? God no."

"Oh get over yourself," the woman sneered derisively, putting the bottle down on the dusty bedside table. "I'm not into green skin, girls, or people with pulses, and even _I_ know she's attractive. A goblin guy like you should be all over her."

"That's my _daughter_ you're talking about!"

"Niece."

"Either way!"

He didn't even care about his slip. He kept hugging his stomach, keeping that queasiness down. "God, no. I wouldn't… She's a kid I took part in raising." He let one hand go up and rub his temple, trying to ease the growing headache. "I wouldn't even be able to…"

"Seriously, I don't think your prick gives a damn whether she's your niece or not."

"Stop it. Stop it now."

There was an edge to his voice and his lips were curling a little so his tusks were bared. The sick feeling was gone. There was only anger.

Tsukiko rolled her eyes and backed off.

"Whatever. The point is, once she thinks she's in control, she'll be more lax about watching your every move. And you'll be able to give her the stuff to make her better."

He wouldn't look at her.

"I'll give you a bottle and tell you how much to give her when her brother gets shaky."

She was gone, taking the medicine with her.

The little girl stayed.

She always stayed.

* * *

"Hey, Eight, you want to join in the game? It's eight-layer chess, Lydia's favorite."

Octavius sat in stony silence in the furthest corner of his cell.

"C'mon. I need help to not get whipped within the first ten minutes. Together, maybe we'll survive about twenty."

Lydia grimaced at Abram's desperate but painfully clueless attempts at bringing their cousin out of his shell. He had barely spoken a word since Terentius had chosen to go with Deirdre instead of stay with them. The only signs of life came when it was time to eat or at night when he cried while he thought everyone else was asleep.

For some reason, their leader thought that he could be coaxed with games and jokes.

She resisted the urge to rub her temples. He had been similarly misguided when Tiasal had 'died'. One would think that he would learn after nearly having his teeth knocked in for trying to get the twins to go for a swim in the pond.

Maybe it was just a 'guys are all oblivious to tact and emotion' thing, but Lydia had understood even then that swimming reminded the twins too much of their sister. They hadn't touched a pond, lake, or any other large body of water since.

Come to think of it, Lydia didn't actually remember talking about Tiasal at all with them, save for one night with Terentius when he had a huge breakdown and got completely trashed at the tavern they were staying near. She hadn't been there, but he had apparently come across a little human girl who was being taught to swim by her big brother. He mentioned something about the human boy promising that he'd never let his sister get hurt.

_"T? By the gods, you're a total mess. C'mon, let's get you back to the inn."_

_"I don't want to go."_

_"What, you want to keep drinking until you pass out on the floor and the janitor has to sweep you away?"_

_"There's no point."_

_"We're trying to save the world, remember? But hey, if you want to drink, you're prerogative. I'm just going to stick around to make sure you don't kill your liver."_

_"There's no point." _

_"Stop that talk."_

_"She's dead, Lydia."_

_"…Who?"_

_"Tiasal. She's dead. There's no point."_

_"…Hey, barkeep, pass us another round of dwarven ale, would you?" _

But of course, that was the only time she had heard him say her name after they realized they would never find her body. Octavius hadn't even alluded to her since then, to Lydia's knowledge. It was like they were trying to ignore the fact she had ever existed.

She just wished Abram would respect the sheer trauma finding out about her survival dealt to all of them, the twins especially. He always acted like they would be unaffected. Like everything was able to be worked through with an optimistic attitude.

"Seriously, I'm the worst player ever, even with regular chess. I'm sure we'd stand a chance if you joined up."

Lydia gave a soft sigh, picking up one of the pebbles they were using as makeshift pieces and rolling it in her hand.

"Terentius wasn't trying to abandon _you_, Octavius. He was just trying to make sure he never abandoned _her_ again."

Abram stiffened, but Octavius's ear twitched, even though he didn't turn to face either of them.

"You can't expect her to have stayed frozen in time. None of us know who she is now. Maybe all the rumors about Deirdre are true and she's awful. Maybe, like most rumors, they were exaggerated and there's still something recognizable there. Regardless, she's still the same person who we called Tiasal, even if the name's changed. Whether or not you want to reconnect is your choice, but don't look at her changes and Terentius's choices as betrayal. If you do that you're just going to lose them all over. And this time, you're not even going to have a semblance of a connection left."

Abram's mouth fell open.

Octavius twisted around to see them finally, shock written across his face.

"I'm not going to screw around. You practically killed yourself and your brother last time. I'm not going to stand by and let you rot. It was bad enough over the years—no need for a repeat performance."

Lydia threw her rock from one hand to the other, her eyes steely.

"Don't push your family away again."

Not even bothering with acknowledging the astounded expressions on the boys' faces, she put her piece down.

"Checkmate."


	5. Chessboard is Set

A/N: I didn't spend as much time editing this as I usually do, so it's probably not as good as the other chapters, but quite frankly, I was just happy I wrote the chapter. I had writer's block for a while and finally got through it again, so hey, chapter. The quote is from Daniel Webster.

* * *

Part V

Somnium Sollicitum

* * *

"Tiasal, did your father know about the people you see? The ones I can't?"

"People tell me I'm crazy, but I doubt I am yet. The things I see are there."

"I wasn't trying to suggest they weren't." For once, she and O-Chul weren't playing Go. She hadn't felt up to it. Instead, she was lying down with her head in his lap and his hand on her hair. She wouldn't have guessed that O-Chul would feel comfortable doing that with a grown woman, but if he had a problem with the arrangement, it didn't show. "I just wanted to know if you had ever told someone about them."

"Only Xykon. He told me not to tell anyone else."

The little girl was in the goblin's lap, dozing while he held her. The Azurian woman was leaning against his side, clenching his hand in a white-knuckled grip.

They both were staring at her with awful looks in their eyes.

"He taught me how to hide it. He said that Daddy couldn't find out. He said Daddy would use it against me and convince me to take things that would dull my mind."

"Do you trust Xykon?"

"He's the only one who would accept me, especially now."

He ran a gentle hand through her hair. "Even if you are correct—even if he is the only one—do you truly need someone to accept you?"

That provoked a long silence.

He kept stroking her hair.

* * *

"Oh gods."

Deirdre sat up, stretching and making no effort to cover her breasts. Terentius rolled on his side, back to her, and curled up in a ball, blocking out the world. "Oh _gods!_"

"Don't be so upset, Big Brother." Deirdre looked down at him, running a hand through his scruffy green hair, provoking a shudder. She wondered how long the time was between him waking up and breaking down. "It's natural."

"Oh gods…" He curled up tighter, hands on his skull, pulling his head to his knees so hard it was a wonder he didn't snap his own neck. "P-please… please get dressed."

Deirdre leaned down, kissing the back of his neck. He gave a soft whimper before she pushed the covers back, picking her slip from the ground and pulling it over her head. "How do you feel?"

"Oh gods…"

He dug his nails into his scalp, ripping at the skin until it tore open. "I… I put… You…" He let out a high-pitched agonized whine, his voice coming in a pained whisper. "I slept with my own little sister…"

"Why is it so awful, really?" She sat next to him, resting a hand on his hip. "Neither of us were forced into anything."

"You're my _little sister!_"

"Hardly." Deirdre patted his hip gently, draping herself over his legs. "Mother adopted you and Octavius with Inkyrius. She gave birth to me with Father. We only spent the beginning of my childhood and the beginning of your adolescence together. What makes us brother and sister?"

That made him look up at her. The honest hurt in his face made something flicker in the back of Deirdre's head, right where she was still able to somewhat see things as they were.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that." He sat up, forgetting why he was upset for a moment, and wrapped his arms around her, burrowing his face in her neck. "I'm your big brother and you're my little sister. It doesn't matter that me and Eight were adopted. You're ours, Tiasal."

"If I'm yours, then you shouldn't feel so guilty. There's nothing wrong with it."

He tensed, starting to tremble again. "N… not that kind of…"

"You shouldn't be guilty, Big Brother."

She twisted, gently pushing his forehead back and pressing her lips against his. His grip on her waist tightened until she was about to bruise, then tentatively relaxed before he kissed her back, his breath starting to come easier.

"I… shouldn't be guilty."

He let his hand creep up her side and he made the kiss more fierce.

"I shouldn't be guilty."

The shadows were swirling around them, screaming bad things in her ears. Calling her names. Telling her things.

_"Don't trust the girl in white."_

_"Break the sapphires."_

_"They're going to poison you." _

_"Gouge his eyes out."_

Disconnected images kept on flashing behind the surface of her eyes, playing directly in her brain and projecting out into the world, her nerves starting to spark painfully, shuddering, clenching, burning—

"…Shit."

Terentius jerked away from her, his cheeks burning, before he looked at the open door with Tsukiko standing at the threshold. The genuinely disgusted look on her face seemed to jar something in him and he ducked his head, the shame coming back in full force.

"I'll make sure I knock from now on. Go get dressed."

Tsukiko closed her eyes with a very 'why me?' expression, telling the whole world that the things she had witnessed were branded on her retinas, and she ducked out.

Terentius brought his knees up and hugged them, resting his forehead against them in a fetal position.

_"Don't eat."_

A little gold-eyed girl sat on the armoire, face downcast, clear liquid leaking out from her hairline, then her mouth, then eyes, slowly coming out of every orifice to splash on the ground, sizzling.

_"Don't drink."_

The purple-eyed girl leaned against the wall, eyes dry and judgmental in their damning gaze on her, and her skin began to be dotted with crimson until it leaked forth and dripped down her body, burning the floor, eating away at the room's very foundations until it started to warp.

_"Don't leave us." _

Strong hands rested on her shoulders, but the moment flesh touched flesh, her skin immediately started burning, blinding pain bursting out and the green meat started blistering from the heat. She wanted to scream, but her throat closed up, not allowing her to do anything.

The front of her hands were black.

_"Don't become aware."_

"I'm confident that you'll make the right choice in the end."

The owner of the painful hands didn't shift his grip as he stepped to her side, staring at her with serious blue eyes.

O-Chul? But he wasn't there. Not out of the cell.

They never were.

_"You'll only destroy more."_

Snow sat at the foot of the bed, humming while she cradled her stillborn to her chest.

Something was off about her.

"So what'll it be, Clash? You can't have it both ways."

"I… please get dressed."

Everything melted away and the room snapped back in its original form.

Deirdre looked down at Terentius, not making a move to do as he asked but not making a move to continue where they left off either.

"You'd never abandon me again, would you, Big Brother?"

He shuddered, hugging his legs even tighter, but a little tension left his muscles

"Never."

"And you'd never do anything to hurt me."

He shook his head, but he didn't look at her.

"Never."

She nodded without a word, then something clicked in her head again. "You're upset now, but the shame will go away soon enough. You've become a man since when we were children."

She smiled, licking her lips and swinging her hips as she turned and walked to her wardrobe. "You certainly know what you're doing."

He whimpered softly and curled up tighter, tension coming back.

"I suggest working to take your mind off of it. Once you do, you get a better perspective." She pulled out a dress and pulled off her slip, flashing her brother a smile. "Just give it a day. You'll feel a lot better."

He ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes averted.

Deirdre smirked and slipped on her dress. "I need to go to the plane of air. Maybe we should share a drink afterwards. We can discuss things."

"No drinking. You're pregnant," Terentius mumbled softly, staring at the wall.

"A meal, then." Deirdre cupped his chin and made him look her in the eyes.

Terentius swallowed, scenes from the night before playing over and over in his head.

"But don't wait up for long." She leaned forward and kissed him softly, the feel of her lips lingering like static electricity, then she was gone.

* * *

"T!"

Lydia jumped out of her nap, landing on her hands and knees and looking around like a startled cat, her rather useless-at-the-moment wings wriggling under her shirt. Abram woke up a little more sedately, sleepily lifting his head up and swiveling it around, while Octavius practically slammed himself to the bars.

Terentius stepped off the stairs, something in his eyes a little off. He was wearing nice clothes, but they looked like they had been made for someone with a broader frame than him. Certainly not elven, and Lydia didn't think that they would have fit Deirdre either. Where did they come from?

"Eight." Terentius came to the bars, curling his fingers around them so he was touching his brother's hand. His lips curled up at the ends, but it didn't make a smile. "Are the bars keeping you from hitting me or hugging me?"

"Both."

Octavius's face twitched, like it wasn't sure if it should scowl or grin, and it ended with some strange in-between. "What the hell? Why'd you leave?"

"You know the answer, Eight. Don't pretend you don't." Terentius averted his eyes and shook his head. "Something's… wrong. Tiasal needs her family, or at least what's left of it. I'm not going to leave her again."

Lydia frowned curiously, standing up and walking to the bars. Terentius wasn't looking at them. That wasn't like him. It was normal for him to be reserved, but they were all family.

Abram didn't seem to notice that there was something wrong. "Good for you for standing by her. Do you know if we can… un-brainwash her or something?"

Terentius looked at Abram strangely, as if he'd only just realized he was there, and he didn't make eye-contact once. "I don't know if she's brainwashed or not. She's keeping me out."

"T? Are you okay?"

Apparently, Lydia wasn't the only one to notice that Terentius didn't look too good.

Octavius frowned, concern breaking through to the surface in an increasingly rare bout of reason. "You look sick."

"Not feeling well."

Terentius attempted to smile, but he really did look a bit ill. "With any luck, I'm not contagious. I just cooked for Tiasal."

Octavius frowned in confusion.

"I wanted to do something for her." He shrugged, something strange passing through his eyes. "I'm the only one she trusts to not poison her."

Lydia frowned. Poison her?

"Well, obviously if she doesn't trust anyone here, then she must be thinking of defecting, right?" Abram smiled. "Dad always taught me that things work out for a happy ending. There just needs to be a really bad middle to make it properly dramatic."

"Y… yeah. Yeah, there's always a happy ending." Terentius looked back to his twin, and briefly, Lydia could see some kind of deep dark conflict raging in his expression. "I'm going to try to convince her to let you guys out. I just wanted to make sure you weren't feeling violent, Eight. She doesn't trust easily and I don't think it'd take much for her to write you off for good."

"I wouldn't hurt her." Octavius sounded vaguely hurt at the implication, but his concentration was mostly on his brother. "I wouldn't hurt Tiasal."

"I think… maybe you shouldn't think of her as…" Terentius stopped. "You should probably be a little careful around her, too."

Lydia ran her tongue over her teeth, realization beginning to bud in her mind. "Terentius, how much has she changed?"

He grimaced, looking over at Lydia. "Does it matter?"

Terentius looked back at his brother, forcing a smile. "I'm going to try to get her to let you out, okay? She's got more sway with Xykon than I thought. She got him to keep some paladin they caught instead of using him for some kind of gladiator game." He pulled away from the bars. "I'll visit."

"If you can't get us out, at least bring down some cards. Or a puzzle. A bored Lydia is a scary thing."

Lydia paused from her close examination of her cousin to glare at her other cousin, concealed wings twitching gently in amusement.

That seemed to make Terentius crack the smallest real smile, even if it was haunted. "Sure thing. Bye guys. Bye, Eight."

Octavius's expression was strange, but he mumbled a soft goodbye.

He didn't talk much for the rest of the day.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Right-Eye scowled, running his fingers along the wall. Tsukiko frowned, thrusting her hips to the side and crossing her arms. They were both alone in a long windowless hallway, identical to every other one in the tower.

"The spirits aren't acting right."

Tsukiko arched an eyebrow, cocking her head. "There aren't spirits here."

"In case you didn't get the memo, I'm still dead. Just in a body." Right-Eye looked down the hall. The elven child that had previously been scrubbing the floor had stopped, instead sitting straight on her knees and staring at him.

Her throat had been torn open. Blood stained her shirt and icicles gathered at the tips of her lashes. She wasn't like the others. Something other than Xykon or the cleric had killed her.

"I can see those kids."

"What kids?" Tsukiko made a derisive tut, rolling her eyes. "Listen, I'm a damn powerful theurge. If there were ghosts hanging around here, I'd know."

Right-Eye paused.

"What, is crazy genetic?"

He glanced at her, then down the hall at the ghost girl, suppressing a shiver. Tsukiko was just messing with his head. He didn't trust the human as far as he could throw her, so he really only needed to take what she said with a grain of salt. Right?

"Why did you come talk to me? I hope you don't think we're buddies, human." He looked back at the wall. The stones felt like they were vibrating with something Other. A strange scent floated off of it, but Tsukiko wasn't commenting so he supposed that was either normal or she didn't notice. It smelled like… myrrh? Cinnamon? There was more to it—it felt a little like a small apothecary—but he didn't know how to unweave it.

"Ha, you're just as bitter as Reddy. Whatever, I'm not interested in being friends. Her brother's in on this—he just thinks they're vitamins—but don't tell him anything. Don't even talk to him."

"You're telling me this, why?"

Tsukiko wrinkled her nose, shuddering. "You don't want to know. The truth is, you're the only halfway sane and mature adult around here. I'm not going to do this on my own, so you're lucky enough to be my partner. I need you to help make sure the crazy bitch and Xykon don't find me out. Seriously, my ass is grass if this falls through."

"Yeah, that's something new that I've been thinking of." He looked back at the theurge, frowning. "Doing the right thing even when you know you're going to get fried if it goes wrong, or even if it goes right. It's called being a hero."

"No, it's called being a vindictive bitch and/or an uncle with a guilt complex." Tsukiko smirked, turning away. "Tone down the delusions of grandeur, Righty. There's nothing heroic about either of us."

She walked away. Right-Eye didn't answer.

The bloodied elf child stood up, her bare feet making gentle splashing sounds on the water-covered floor, and she started to step towards him, big eyes from the autumn forest floor fixed, almost resentfully, on his face.

He suppressed a flinch, swallowing past his dry mouth.

The child rested a small bluish hand on the stone wall.

Slowly, like some kind of imprint, words written in scrawled handwriting began to glow softly on the wall.

_One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate; but he must die as a man._

The words faded away along with the stones, leaving only a long dirt path downward. Somehow, he didn't think this was on the tower's architect's blueprint.

The elf looked up at him, an ugly look of hate in her eyes, and turned away, walking to her scrubbing again.

Right-Eye frowned, looking down the dark tunnel and grimacing.

Well, Big Brother had always told him he was an impulsive idiot.

He started walking down the dirt path, the stones fading in place behind him, and for a moment, there was complete darkness.

Torches at the wall flared to life. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that there was something off about the fire. It was white and didn't make any kind of traditional 'fire' sounds—no cracks or snaps, just unearthly auditory shimmers. He didn't know how to describe it beyond that.

For some reason, they made him very uneasy. He decided to not look at any of the torches directly.

With any luck, he wasn't locked in here.

He started walking. The only sign that he was making progress was that the stone wall was getting further and further away with each step. The shimmers got louder, making the world around him fracture, slowly but surely, until he had to start wondering if he was going mad.

There was a loud bark.

Right-Eye jumped, spinning around to see where the bark came from.

There was another bark.

The goblin turned forward again, walking a little faster. He wasn't sure if he was going towards or away from whatever was making the sound, but—

He stopped.

The tunnel split off in two directions. At the fork sat what was probably one of the biggest dogs he'd ever seen. Or a wolf, he wasn't sure.

It was sitting on its haunches, unsettlingly pale (nearly white) gray eyes staring expectantly at him. Its fluffy white fur glimmered like powdered snow in the firelight, and the only variation in color was its wet black nose, twitching lightly as it sniffed. He got the strangest impression that this was a puppy, but if that was a puppy, he'd be terrified to see an adult.

"Um…"

It wasn't growling, which was probably a good sign.

The dog stood up, and for some reason, not a speck of dirt marred its fur.

"What did I get myself into?"

The dog blinked slowly, then turned its head to the right, looking at him expectantly.

"You want me to go that way?"

The dog huffed softly, blinking again, and padded down that path to leave Right-Eye to make his own choice.

Well, obviously, the dog wanted him to go right. He'd hate to piss it off, so he supposed he was going right.

He rubbed his temples gently, wondering if he was dreaming, before he finally went down the right path.

The flames flickered, then as he descended, they faded. He could hear moans of pain further down, sounding very male and human. Right-Eye grimaced, beginning to wonder if he had been stupid to go through that strange door in the first place. Well, maybe he should have started thinking about that a while ago. He never was considered the smart sibling.

Suddenly, the flames went out and there was nothing but darkness.

Well, that was what Darkvision was for.

He grimaced when his eye readjusted and stopped short. The path ended just a yard in front of him, dropping down what had to be at least ten feet into a roughly fifteen-by-fifteen room. The groaning was louder, echoing off the stone walls and floor of the room, and Right-Eye could make out a dirty huddle at the center.

The goblin frowned, walking closer to the edge and kneeling down. "Hey? Hey, are you okay?"

The huddle snapped out of its ball, a filthy but disturbingly familiar face looking up at him. "Someone. Someone here." Two yellowish hands reached up at the wall, clawing it, and he could see that the nails had already been torn away to bloody nubs at this point. "You're here to save me? You must! She's kept me in here! I thought she was only charismatic, but she's a devil! Possessed!"

Right-Eye's mouth fell open slowly. "It's… _you_."

The human licked his dry mouth, clawing the wall hard enough to make the tips of his fingers start to bleed again. "You must get me out! They call me a monster, but I'm no monster! She is! I've been trapped in here with no one to talk to and for the love of the gods _say something to me!_"

The goblin stared, then set his jaw. "You're the bastard that abused my niece."

The cleric pounded his dead fist on the wall, his eyes watering and tears leaving streaks on his dirty face, and it didn't seem as though he was really listening to the goblin. "I thought I could control her, but I couldn't! A dog, a snake, a horse, a human, she ate me whole! She'll devour you too!" He dragged his hands on the stones, his lip shaking. "Please, please help me. It's so quiet…"

Right-Eye's face got red.

"Get me out of here! Save me! I'll give you anything you want! Money, women, power, anything! I can't stand the _silence_ anymore!"

The goblin knelt down so he could look closer at the human's ugly tearstained face, anger radiating from his only eye. The pathetic creature didn't even realize he was dead.

"Rot in your own hell, human."

He spat on the human's head, then stood, turning away and walking up again.

"NO! NO, STOP!"

As he ascended, the flames got brighter.

"PLEASE! PLEASE, STOP! _DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN!_"

He didn't look back.

* * *

"Are you alright, little one?"

"Why do you ask?" Deirdre smirked, things whispering in her ears, and touched her hips against the bars. "Do I seem sick to you?"

O-Chul was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees, while Deirdre was standing, dress even more revealing than usual, and staring down at him. The Azurian woman lay draped across her sleeping goblin, a strange look on her face, and the little girl was nowhere to be found.

"No, but you are acting a little different than I'm used to, and I believe it is only right for me to ask about your health, considering the news you shared with me."

"Oh. That." Deirdre swung her hips gently as she walked back to lean on the wall, facing the paladin. "Yes. Xykon tried to make me miscarry."

O-Chul stiffened and his face turned white. "That abomination did what?"

"He punched me in the stomach, but apparently, that's not actually how you're supposed to do it. I'm still pregnant."

That did nothing to return color to the paladin's complexion.

"It would have been better if he had succeeded, though. The girl will be miserable. Completely and utterly unloved."

O-Chul stood up, frowning tightly. "It doesn't have to be that way."

"I won't be able to be a mother. I can hardly take care of myself. And no one else will be able to see her as anything more than a monster."

He walked to her, placing warm and calloused hands on her arms. "Don't think about your child that way. If you bring someone into this world, you need to see to it that it's taken care of."

"And you think that anyone here will take proper care of a child born from…"

She paused, a strange smile flickering across her face and her eyes somewhere else.

"From what, Tiasal?" O-Chul frowned, squeezing her arms gently to get her attention. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes went back to his, the smile turning into a smirk. "Why wouldn't I be?" She leaned forward, resting her head against his shoulder, her breath brushing his neck, and she rested a hand on his bare chest, curling her fingers in the hair there.

He tensed. She could feel his heart pounding against her hand.

"I don't seem sick to you, do I?"

"Little one…" Whether he was about to ask her to step away or not, he didn't finish. He just gently wrapped his arm around her. "I don't think the Snarl is good for you to hold inside of you. I feel something deteriorating."

"Mm. You noticed?" She traced little circles in his chest, causing a suppressed shiver, and fireflies were bleaching her eyes again. "Why should we talk about it? The Snarl can be tamed. I've proven it."

"Chaos can't be tamed, Tiasal. It can be controlled temporarily, but never tamed. This isn't going to end well."

Deirdre smirked, her traces becoming firmer until she was stroking his skin. "Now you sound like Father. Talk like that didn't end well for him, either. We shouldn't talk about it."

"Tiasal…"

"You don't get it, do you?"

Deirdre looked up to see the Azurian woman standing beside them, her arms crossed, something strange in her expression. It seemed like a mixture of pity and something she couldn't name. "You don't know what's happening right now."

The hybrid straightened a little, scowling. "What are you talking about?"

"Tiasal?"

"What are you doing right now?"

Deirdre frowned in confusion. "What does it look like?"

"Tiasal, who are you talking to?"

"That's what I thought. I don't know if it's right to pity you, but I do anyway." The Azurian woman shook her head. "You don't know what's happening to you."

Deirdre scowled, pulling away from the confused paladin and staring at the woman. "I don't need your pity."

The woman only shrugged. "You need more than you know."

* * *

"Why did you show me that?"

The elf girl was still scrubbing the floor, continually washing away the blood that dripped from her throat.

"It was pointless for you. I could have let him out."

The girl paused in her cleaning, tilting her head so her eyes could rest on his face.

_But you didn't._

She stood up, her pants stained with pink suds, and stared at him for another long moment. For some reason, he got the sense that she had been testing him. And he passed.

The elf held out her hands, opening her mouth to let out a rush of air that would have been words had she had a throat, and something shimmered between her palms, weighing her down until the image materialized.

It was a heart locket.

Right-Eye frowned in confusion. The girl was holding it from a silver chain, letting it dangle in the air. It had a very strange but unsettling design—incredibly detailed carvings and paintings of every hardship, vice, and suffering that plagued the world, from gossip to hunger to murder. The graphic despair and suffering made him recoil a little, something within him instinctively trying to get away, but the black keyhole at the center of the heart was trying to pull him close, tempting him into opening it up.

The elf girl made another hollow gasping sound, letting the locket hang from one hand, the heart swinging gently, and bringing her other hand to her throat, gripping it tight, blood oozing between her fingers.

_"It's hidden in the doll. It's her heart."_

He suppressed a shiver at the sound. It only contained a trace of what the girl's voice must have been—it was only rasped and breathed out now.

_"Remember that before he takes it away. The gods only want power and revenge."_

Right-Eye knelt down, the frown etching itself deeper in his face. "What do you mean? Listen, I really don't want to be going crazy, and saying lots of cryptic stuff isn't too reassuring."

_"You'll be able to open it,"_ she continued, as if she hadn't heard him, _"but you have to take it all. No choosing. And once it's opened, you can't put any of it back in." _

"I think I can help you." Right-Eye cocked his head, his eye fixed on the blood leaking through the cracks in the girl's fingers. "They're destroying them, but there are afterlives. You can go to them."

That made her pause.

_"…There are no afterlives for us."_ She looked away, seeing something he couldn't. _"Never evil. I was wrong. Never evil, just manipulated and corrupted."_ Her eyes went back to him, the blood starting to flow faster.

_"But we've all earned our special place in hell, haven't we?" _

A sound like thunder slammed against the tower, shaking the floor and making Right-Eye jump with curse, slapping his hands on his ears and falling on his back.

For a moment, he couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing.

Then he could hear his heartbeat.

"Uh… Why are you on the floor?"

He opened his eye, the glare of light obscuring his vision for a moment.

"Newsflash, Right-Eye, you don't need sleep when you're dead."

He let his hands fall away from his ears.

"Xykon?"

He quickly sat up, his head spinning for a moment, and the lich crossed his arms, cocking his skull with an aura of bemusement floating off of him. "What's wrong, Right-Eye? You look like you've seen a _ghost._" He let out a rattling laugh. "Or a skeleton. Whatever."

Right-Eye glared fiercely, getting to his feet and glancing at the floor. There was only a puddle of pink suds. "Get out of my face, lich."

That only provoked another laugh. "I can't tell who's more fun—you or Reddy. Too bad you both got so much less responsive after I get you to murder your family or watch loved ones get driven crazy. But that doesn't mean you don't have entertainment value anymore." The lich put his phalange to his chin, as if thinking. "I guess it depends on whether I find psychotic tantrums or paranoid breakdowns more amusing. It's so hard to choose!"

"Did you just come here to get a rise out of me?" The goblin's lips drew back, baring his tusks, but he swallowed the snarl growing in his throat. If nothing else, he knew that getting a response only encouraged the lich.

"Not really, but since you're here, why not?"

Right-Eye scowled, trying to hide how his body was trembling, and started to walk down the hall. "I'm not in the mood. I'm checking on my niece."

"Yeah, if busting your lip wasn't enough, let's see if she'll go for your—"

"Not in the mood."

"And when did that ever stop me?"

Xykon laughed again, the hollow sound bouncing off the stones. "You're starting to figure it out, eye patch. You're trapped. Trapped in the tower, trapped with Deirdre, and trapped in a body that isn't yours. And guess what? You're never going to escape it."

Right-Eye had to shudder at that.

Xykon was still laughing when the goblin finally ducked away.

* * *

"Did you finish everything? The food, the water?"

"Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

Deirdre was lying on her side on her bed, her eyes closed, and Terentius sat at the foot of the bed, averting his eyes. "I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. If you don't get all the nutrition you need, it's bad for the baby."

"You worry too much," she said dismissively, forcing her eyes open. "I'm feeling a little drowsy."

"It's probably nothing. You, uh, didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

She chuckled softly. "Isn't that true?"

Terentius swallowed, then lightly rested his hand on her hip. "You want me to leave you alone?"

"No, you wanted to ask me something." She propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at her brother and arching an eyebrow. "Thank you for fixing the armored clothes for us, by the way. I had almost forgotten how good you were with a needle and thread. Xykon is more convinced of your usefulness."

"I like working with that kind of stuff. Besides, I need something to do here. I'm guessing I'm doing that kind of thing regularly?"

"Probably." Deirdre crossed one forearm over the other, looking up at him with firefly-free eyes. "What did you want?"

Terentius rubbed his free palm on his knee. "For Eight, Abram, and Lydia to be let out of their cells."

"Hmm. Probably should have expected that." The woman looked at the wall, cocking her head as the shadows crawled across the stones and whispered bad things to her. "Is Octy still feeling rowdy?"

"He's gotten a lot better, Tiasal," Terentius said quickly, "his mood swings less and he's not as violent. The shock of this whole thing made him regress for a bit, but it was only temporary."

"Color me skeptical." She lay back down and rolled on her back, resting her hands on her abdomen. "I'd need to think of some use they could all serve. Xykon can ignore them when they're down in that dungeon, but if they're walking around, I need to use them for something or he'll torture them for his own entertainment."

"I'm sure we could think of something. Abram has a thing for carving and carpentry he picked up from Uncle Belkar, Eight could be a bodyguard or something, and Lydia could be an advisor…"

"Do you really think that they would be working to help me? They don't care about me, Terentius. They care about this… artificial moral code the gods pasted on the masses to keep them in line. They'd only try to trick us. Trick _me._" Deirdre sat up, one or two fireflies starting to appear in her eyes, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I can't trust them."

"You can trust them more than you know, Tia." He turned to look at her, trying to keep his blush down. "Abram is really good at hiding things and pretending stuff is alright because he sucks at dealing with real serious emotion, but you lived with him. For all intents and purposes, you're his sister too. He might be able to act like he's taking stuff in stride, but I'd bet my life that when push comes to shove, he wouldn't be able to leave any more than I could. Same goes for Eight. He was _devastated_ when you left."

Her frown became tight. "Be careful with your words, Big Brother."

"You thought he was unstable before you left? You should have seen him after. You have no idea how much therapy it took for him to just get back to the place he was in before you were gone. And Lydia…" Terentius paused for a moment, "Lydia's hard. She deals with people through calculation, not really emotion. She says she's Good, but I think that's just to make the family happy. She's Neutral. I think she'd put you ahead as long as you weren't threatening anyone else in the family. Family's always first, and you're family."

Deirdre played with the collar of his shirt, causing him to shiver, and she nuzzled his neck gently. "Lydia's too smart for her own good, sometimes. I don't think it'd be good for her to be out here."

She pulled away, smiling at him, the fireflies fading. "I'll see what I can do to get them out of the cells and in something more comfortable. Maybe I'll let them roam the tower if they behave and I can think of justification for Xykon." She paused. "And Lydia would probably appreciate something to keep her mind busy. Maybe I can find some puzzles."

"Thanks, Baby Sister." Terentius smiled, leaning against the bedpost. "I know Eight hurt you, and I'm grateful you're willing to give him a chance. I think they'll be glad to be able to talk to you. All of them."

"Mmm. We'll see, won't we?"

Deirdre kissed his neck, resting her hand on his cheek so she could turn his face, brushing their lips together. His breathing hitched, his muscles tensing up against her, blood rushing to his face.

"Tia, I-I really d-don't know if I—"

"You can stop me if you really want to, but I don't think you do." Deirdre kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Last night was nice. I'm sure I wasn't the only one enjoying herself."

Well, she was relatively sure. It was the first time she'd had sex with both partners consenting.

"I-I enjoyed it, but I just—"

"Come on. It's our secret. If Tsukiko doesn't count, which I don't think she does." Deirdre smiled, something seizing her chest for a moment, the shadows on the walls starting to pull themselves off. Terentius still had a deeply conflicted and reluctant expression, but he didn't push her away when she kissed him again. "The world didn't end last night, did it? Touching me didn't ruin our relationship, and I know you want to do it again."

Terentius hesitated, then let his hand drift low, tilting his head downward to kiss her neck. "Y-yeah. The world didn't end. Th-there's nothing wrong with it."

"You're getting the idea." Deirdre smiled, digging her claws into her back and staring at the blood starting to leak from the cracks in the stone wall. The shadows were screaming at her. The gold-eyed girl was sitting at the sill, staring again, expressionless.

"It's just our secret."

She hid her face in his neck. Maybe if she held him tightly enough, the things would go away. Maybe.

Just maybe.


End file.
